Shining Cloud
by Martin III
Summary: -SF CD- Deanna and Natasha had concluded that there was little to no truth behind the prophecy that their eldest son, Hindel, would become a warlord of Iom and murder the two of them. But as Hindel comes of age, he becomes only more and more devoted to Iom. And a war is coming in which he must take part. Co-starring Anri, Nick, Mayfair, Ruce, May, and others.
1. Chapter 1: First Born Son

Author's Notes:

Finally. This is the novel in which Brehen's prophecy is unraveled and resolved, one way or another. I don't remember what I was thinking when I introduced it way back at the end of "The Proposal", but I'm certain I had no notion it would take this long to resolve it. I've made a note to myself to be wary of introducing long-range prophecies as plot elements; I can now see that by their very nature they tend to be drawn-out. Hopefully you'll all find the wrap-up to be satisfying.

I will endeavor to make this novel fully accessible to new readers, but if you haven't read my earlier fics and want a quick primer on Brehen's prophecy and the other events leading up to "Shining Cloud", I recommend "Ten Years Later". It's short, and covers all the essentials.

The milieu of this fanfic is property of Sega. As usual with my more recent Shining Force CD fics, there's a big mix of original characters and characters that are property of Sega, so if you don't know which is which and would like to, drop me a line and I'll be happy to respond. This story is set ten years after "Ten Years Later", i.e. about 20 years after Shining Force Gaiden II(Sword of Hajya to us in the USA, and also released as Book 2 of Shining Force CD).

* * *

Shining Cloud

plot and script - Martin III

Part 1: The Cloud's Ascent

\- Chapter 1: First Born Son -

It had been a long time since Deanna had gotten a beating like this. Yet it was all coming back to him: the fists bludgeoning him from every side as he was knocked from one tormentor to another like a rag doll. He felt like he was an adolescent again, a weakling to be forever abused by those who felt the need to prove themselves strong. An individual of no worth beyond being a whipping boy to anyone who knew him.

But still Deanna continued fighting back, though he knew it only added to their amusement. He swung his fists in deft strikes, training that had ended a decade ago struggling to resurface in his memory. But there were too many of them, and even when he managed to land a blow, it seemed to reduce their numbers not at all.

"Haw! The high and mighty Deanna, savior of Iom, vanquisher of tyrants, friend of kings! A nice fight he's putting up!"

"You're nothing without your Cypress friends, aren't you?"

"Can't even put up a good fight for the sake of his precious little wife!"

_Natasha._ Someone delivered his knee to Deanna's ribs with all his strength, but Deanna was hardly aware of it. His one thought was the knowledge that Natasha was in their hands, and they weren't going to let her go once they were done with him.

They were going to kill her.

He seized the knee before it could part from his ribs and twisted the leg until something in the joint cracked. The thug fell to the ground screaming, crippled.

His friends momentarily hesitated at this. Deanna did not. His fist smashed into the face of the one holding onto his arm, the nose exploding a burst of blood over his face. This freed him up enough to elbow the one behind him in the stomach. His leg swung up to kick the next one in the jaw, making his teeth crack against each other and his head snap back.

They were fleeing now. Deanna ran in the direction he thought he'd most likely find Natasha. Or tried to. His legs screamed with the first two strides, and then gave out, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground. It was a monumental effort to remain on his feet, and only his love for Natasha kept him moving forward in something resembling a walk, but would more accurately be called lurching.

He was too weak. False energy had allowed him to break free, but that was nearly spent now. He had only the faintest chance of helping Natasha, unless...

Deanna looked up, and there he was, tall, strong, and resolute. An unwavering savior.

"Hindel! Help me -"

Hindel gripped Deanna by the throat and lifted him into the air. "Help _you_?" he answered, his voice as firm and harsh as steel. "You're out of touch, father. In your prime you were a great hero, but times have changed. Forces beyond your understanding are in motion. This time, I'm the one who is this world's salvation. So it would be a waste for me to help you, father... because you're the one who must help me. Help me achieve the power to save us all."

Deanna clutched at his son's grip, but could not break free. Simply getting enough slack around his windpipe to talk was a struggle. "Hindel... your mother... is in..."

"She's right here." Hindel gestured to a pair of stone slabs. Natasha was chained to one of them by her wrists and ankles. Iom priests stood in a circle around the two slabs. Deanna knew what this meant.

"Hindel... save her..."

"You still don't understand," Hindel muttered, and almost effortlessly tossed his father onto the remaining stone slab. The Iom priests seized Deanna and bound him in the same way as his wife.

"Deanna!" Natasha cried, her voice and her face alike strained with bitter anxiety for him. It made his heart ache beyond bearing; much as he feared death, the grief he was causing Natasha and their other children was a thousand times worse.

"I'm going to do far better than just saving my mother. I'm going to save the entire world. I'm going to save the souls of every intelligent being alive. I'm going to save the gods themselves!" He held out his palm to accept a sacrificial knife from one of the priests. "And in the process, I'll bring greater glory to our god, Iom. By his power, his gifts, we shall all be saved. And the gift of your lives shall help to accomplish that."

"Hindel, please, listen..." Natasha pleaded. "We're your parents... we -"

"I hereby bequeath you both," - Hindel raised the dagger over his head - "...to our great lord, Iom!"

The dagger descended, and his parents' blood splattered the sacrificial slabs as a single offering.

* * *

Hindel sat bolt upright, his eyes suddenly wide open, his face cool and moist.

He knew it had all been a dream. He knew he was inside his home, his bedroom. He knew the rest of his family were all within a call's reach. One of his younger brothers, Joshua, was snoring just a few feet above him, on the top bunk. But none of this reassured him.

He bent forward, trembling all over. This was something he'd felt before – this restless uneasiness, this fear gnawing at his insides like a vulture at carrion. He knew there was only one way to ease this torment.

Careful not to wake either of his brothers, he stepped out of bed and forced his shaking limbs to put some pants on. This took several aggravating minutes, and he grumbled at his mother for throwing away the box of mealworms which he had formerly kept by his bed for dealing with these... panic attacks, for lack of a better term. Now, he reflected as he pulled on some boots, there was nothing for it but to hunt something up.

He snuck out of his room and down the hall. It struck him that, while he didn't want to disturb any of his family by waking them up, he also was afraid of them finding out what he was doing. Not just because Joshua would laugh at him for his weakness, but because they'd all think he was a lunatic who would kill them all in their sleep. He wouldn't entirely blame them, either. What sort of person dreams about murdering his own parents?

He paused to steal a sharp knife from the kitchen. As his hand closed about the handle, he thought of the dagger which he used to kill his mother and father, and shuddered. Only a dream, he reminded himself. But he could not deny that there was something enticing about making such a profound sacrifice to Iom.

The front door squeaked faintly on its hinges as he pulled it open. It couldn't be helped; the house was only about as old as Hindel himself, but that was old enough. _Eighteen years old,_ he thought. _I should be getting married and moving out soon. Carla is already engaged. So why can't I seem to get interested in girls at all?_

He put that thought aside, just one more weakness which would probably fetter him for his entire life. That's what people would call it, anyway. Hindel's belief was that these withdrawals from the rest of the world, these so-called "weaknesses", were symptoms of his devotion.

The cool night surrounded Hindel as he lurked. Insects sang, one massive chorus of community and communication, yet Hindel was alone. _My family can't help me,_ he thought, shaking worse than ever. _I'm their enemy._

There was a rustle, and Hindel's eyes trained on the source. There were vermin about the house, and the sound was just the right volume for a vole or mouse.

A few seconds of stalking, and then Hindel pounced, his boot slamming down to elicit a crunch of leaves and a sharp squeal. He bent down to grasp the mouse in one hand, raising his knife with the other.

"Iom," he whispered, fearful even now that his family might hear him. "Your servant Hindel offers this modest life to your great hunger. Please accept my offering. Accept my sacrifice." His hand still trembled, and he was sure he would cut himself with the knife, but he managed by holding the squealing mouse to the ground and pressing the tip into its chest.

As soon as the mouse's heart had beat its last, pumping a final trickle of blood over Hindel's hand, the trembling subsided. Hindel felt a soothing claim wash over him, and his shoulders slumped in profound relief. He soaked in the deep peace he achieved only through communion with Iom, and whispered a prayer of thanks to his god. The fear he had felt towards his family was gone; he understood with wonderful certainty that even if his parents saw him now, shocked as they would be, they would still love him.

But though he was calmed enough to function, the restlessness and dread was still well-rooted in the depths of his mind. Hindel knew this. And he knew now that the dream had in fact been a message from Iom. He knew this in the same way a man recognizes his wife's handwriting; without knowing by what signs he identified it, but with full certainty of the source just the same.

The meaning of the message was not yet clear, but at the very least, it was a summons from Iom. And such a summons could not be ignored, even if he could regain his peace of mind without answering it. Which he could not.

He hoped he could convince his father to help him do what he needed to.

* * *

"Dad?" Hindel spoke up. They were out in the garden, pulling weeds. It was a rare chance to talk to his father alone, at least without specifically asking for it.

"Yes?"

"Don't you think I'm getting too old to be still living with my parents?"

His father smiled, but his eyes and the lines of his face were pained. It occurred to Hindel that his father didn't look much like him. True, he had the same straight brown hair in the same subdued, almost clerical cut, but the face it framed was soft and rounded, not sharp and angular like his own. The nose, too, was broad and snug against the face, in contrast to Hindel's pointed one. Most striking of all, his father's eyes were warm and gentle, quite unlike the piercing and resolute ones he saw in his reflection. "Hindel, we need you here. Especially now that... Dusty is moving out."

"You and mom got along fine before Carla and I were big enough to help out. And you're both still young."

He shook his head. "That's nice of you to say, son, but..."

"Look." Hindel dropped the clump of weeds he'd been collecting. "You know I can come back here and help during harvest time if you need me to. Why won't you let me go and live my life?"

"Hindel..." He hesitated, then reached out to place a hand on his son's shoulder. The hand was heavy, yet it felt not restraining, but loving. "Is this still about... you becoming a priest of Iom?"

"I love our god, father. I want to serve him as more than just a simple layman."

"You know that that would kill your mother."

"I love Mom," Hindel sighed, "...but she just doesn't understand."

"... I..." Deanna took a heavy breath. "I wouldn't like you becoming a priest of Iom either."

Hindel glared reproachfully at his father. "Why not? You're not like Mom – you understand Iom and why we need to worship him! Why do you have to hold me back too?"

"Hindel." His father looked at him steadily. "Haven't I told you how your uncle... the one we named you after... died?"

"All the more reason! Now that your brother's a part of Iom – or are you actually blaming Iom for his death?"

"I'm not. But I... I don't want any more people sacrificed to him. Your mother and I have done what we can to end the sacrifice of sentient beings to Iom, and I certainly don't want... my own son performing such sacrifices."

"That wouldn't be the same. What Warderer did is against the law, and against what I believe. Anyone I sacrificed would be on the altar _willingly_."

His father shook his head. "It's still a life."

"...Fine. What if I just did animal sacrifices?"

There was an uncomfortable, unpromising silence. He was struggling, but struggling against the temptation to say yes. "...Son. Don't make promises you don't plan to keep."

He considered that. "So you understand. You know how much I love Iom, and that there's nothing you can do to make me give up my devotion to him."

His father's face was more pained than ever now. "Maybe not. But I'm... going to keep on trying for as long as I can. And so will your mother."

"Dad..." he said in an imploring tone. _This is it. Now's the time to ask what I really wanted to ask him all along._ "Will you at least take me to the shrine in the capital sometime soon?"

As he'd planned, his father's face relaxed in relief at hearing his petitions turn to something so comparatively unimportant. "Of course," he smiled. "We'll go tomorrow."

"Really? Tomorrow?" he said brightly, as if the timing was a pleasant surprise rather than just what he'd been desperately praying for. The thought of spending many more anxious days and nights like the one before was mortifying.

"Sure." A second later, a bit of doubt clouded his face. "But... what's wrong with the shrine down in town?"

"Come on, Dad," Hindel groaned. "You think that tiny little shrine is as good as Iom's central house of worship? They've got the big altars, frescoes by all of the nation's greatest painters, life-size statues of Iom, and there'll be hundreds of worshipers like me there, and even the High Priest himself!"

"Alright, alright." He smiled at Hindel with fondness, but it was accompanied by a dour sigh. "It's just... hard for me to see that place in a romantic light, after the things that happened to me in there."

"You can't blame a place for what people did there."

"No, you can't," his father agreed. "But... maybe it's superstition, but... I can't help but fear that bad things will happen there to people I care about... yet again."

They were finished with pulling weeds. In their accustomed silence, they went back inside.

* * *

They stood on the sand, waiting and watching the waves coming in to shore. Each wore a sword at his side.

"I miss home already," said one.

"The tales of the barbarism of this land may be exaggerated," said the other.

"I hope so."

"And even if they are not," he breathed in, "..we shall soon reform it. When we have done our task, this place _will_ be home."

"We can't be sure of that." The other snorted in reply. "We can't be sure of how great their resistance will be."

"It does not matter. Barbarism has no power over us. We have both seen that."

"Every place is different."

He snorted at that as well. The sound of footsteps in the sand caught his ear. As he looked up, he said, "The only difference is that here, we have allies. ...It looks like they've finished unloading."

"Yes."

The two of them turned away from the ocean and walked back to where the troops were waiting.


	2. Chapter 2: Pilgrimage

\- Chapter 2: Pilgrimage -

It still impressed Deanna how Iom's chief shrine had grown. It hadn't always been the biggest shrine to their god; it had inherited that title when he, as part of the squad under General Mayfair's command, had inadvertently brought about the destruction of what was then the main shrine. The remaining faithful had naturally made an effort to bring this shrine up to that same level, and though progress had been much slower than it would have been in Iom's glory years, the accumulated advancements of two decades were impressive.

His son's amazement was a great deal stronger, naturally. For a few moments he stood gaping in silence at the solemn beauty of Iom's most holy seat.

"It's... quite a sight, isn't it, Hindel?" he remarked, feeling strangely uncomfortable at the silence. His son took after him in that neither of them were given to conversation, and normally the absence of talk between them was a comfort.

Hindel just nodded in reply. He'd only seen the shrine once before in his life, and then when he was too young to remember. When he started showing intense religious devotion from an early age, Natasha had felt – and Deanna had concurred – that he should be disallowed visits to the main shrine. They had feared Hindel's youthful curiosity might drive him to wander off from his parents to witness one of the human sacrifices held there.

It had been a painful ban to enforce. Though he and Natasha considered themselves to be done with Iom's politics, there were a number of occasions when their friends in the capital required their presence, and those were certainly good enough excuses for a visit to the main shrine.

Initially, he and Natasha had denied Hindel visits to the capital on the grounds that he was too young. Once that became invalid, they'd decided to let him tag along to the capital on the understanding that he was not to visit the shrine. This policy did not even last beyond Deanna's next visit to the capital. Their first night there, he'd been awoken in the middle of the night by a knock on his door. It was Dust, arm firmly on Hindel's shoulder. Dust informed him that the boy had snuck out of his room and was heading towards the shrine.

Deanna had given Hindel the best lecture he could manage. Once they returned home, Natasha had delivered a far better one, full of recriminations at his betrayal of their trust and pointed speculation about how if danger had befallen Carla while Dust was following him, he wouldn't have been able to protect her. Before his mother was done, Hindel was weeping tears of remorse. But it did no good. Hindel was sorry for the pain he caused his parents, but he was also indignant that they would not let him visit the shrine, and they could see that his devotion to Iom was greater than his urge to obey them. And that they could no longer trust him. So since then, Hindel was forbidden any trips to the capital, even as his brothers and sisters were often invited to come along.

Deanna had anticipated that convincing Natasha to lift that ban would be difficult, but she had immediately agreed with his reasoning that actually seeing the shrine might get Hindel's passion for worship out of his system. There was a sort of defeatism to the way she gave her permission: they'd already tried everything else to extinguish Hindel's desire to be a priest of Iom, and perhaps at this point they should just stop trying to fight him. That saddened him, but he had no intention on giving up on Hindel.

"Alright," he said at last. "Let's go in."

"Wait," Hindel said. "I have to get an offering."

As always, there were merchants selling live animals on the steps of the shrine for the faithful to purchase and then sacrifice to Iom. Deanna stood aside while Hindel purchased a pigeon.

Hindel turned back to his father, clutching the pigeon's cage reverentially. "Aren't you going to get one, Dad?"

He shook his head. "Not this time. Today I'll just witness your sacrifice."

"We should all take every opportunity we have to sacrifice to Iom," Hindel objected. "He's our god."

Deanna winced slightly at his son's solemn tone. "If I thought... Iom needed any more today, I would give it to him. But..."

Hindel shrugged and turned away. "Okay," he said. He seemed embarrassed.

To avoid making it worse, Deanna said, "Come on," and started heading up the steps. His son followed. As they reached the entrance, however, Deanna hesitated. "Hindel, have you... given any more thought to the army?"

"Dad." Hindel said the word with patience that had been worn out.

"Okay." They went inside. It had been a question that Hindel had answered over and over, but he couldn't stop asking it. The military was such an obvious career path for him. Hindel had been thoroughly schooled in swordsmanship by his father, in combat magic by his mother, and in strategy by both of them. Nor was it at their insistence; they had trained all of their children in the basics of these disciplines for self-defense purposes, but Hindel had taken eagerly to all of them and asked his parents to show him more. His appetite for strategy, in particular, was insatiable. They had a board of polished wood with a map of the world painted on it and a set of pieces shaped like soldiers – a gift from lieutenant Jengh – and Deanna often spotted his son studying a strategy problem on it of his own volition, his face beaming with rapt intellectual engagement.

It seemed a waste to let him not pursue that interest. Especially since his alternate career was to be a priest of Iom. But Hindel insisted that his interest in military matters was strictly intellectual, and that the idea of a practical career in the military struck him as a living hell. During peace time it would be hopelessly dull, and during war he would be forced to kill. Offering human sacrifices to Iom, he explained, was entirely different.

The shrine's outer courts were filled with light. It made for good viewing of the frescoes, which Deanna had to admit were impressive. One of them showed Iom facing the viewer, skin translucent so that one could see dozens of people that he had consumed. They were all joined together, one person's wrist flowing into another's ankle, in a manner that was not grotesque but serene, unified. Their faces did not reflect Iom's paternal expression; instead, each showed their own unique surrender to the greater existence of Iom. A faint but happy smile came over Deanna's face as he looked at the painting, thinking of his long departed brother.

Hindel's interest was more caught by a fresco of a priest performing a human sacrifice. The contorted limbs and tortured grimace of the man being sacrificed made it clear that he was not on the altar by choice.

Deanna came to stand behind Hindel, and heard him say softly, "I wonder if he deserved it."

"I... doubt that's a painting of a historical event. It's probably... a depiction of a generic sacrifice."

Hindel started at the sound of his father's voice. "...But the artist must have had some idea of what sort of person he was painting."

"If he's fictional, what does it matter?"

"Dad, you don't understand," Hindel sighed. "It's the artist's intention that matters. With all of these."

"I... see." The way the artists depicted Iom and his followers showed what he thought they were like, or how he thought they should be. That didn't matter much to Deanna; he knew that the faithful of Iom always warped their notion of Iom and his wishes according to their own fears and desires. Few did it to the extent that Warderer had, but by its very nature the practice of sacrifice invited misinterpretation. But Hindel... he still saw Iom worship in idealistic terms. To him, the idea of someone turning the religion to evil ends was a deviation from the ordinary.

"Dad... when you met Iom... did you try talking to him?"

Deanna was lost in his thoughts, so he answered without thinking, "No, he... spoke to me."

"_Iom spoke to you?_" Hindel said in a shocked, reverent whisper. When Deanna made a faint nod, Hindel's voice turned slightly angry. "Why did you never tell me that before?"

Because it was not a vital part of what happened. And because he didn't want to tell his children of how he'd wanted, if only for a moment, to sacrifice himself to Iom. "I never thought it important. A god speaking to you seems momentous at the time, but looking back, it wasn't much of a conversation."

"Huh?"

Deanna smiled awkwardly. "That... came out wrong. It _was_ an experience I'll never forget. One that... hit me on a very deep emotion level. But Iom and I... didn't really communicate." He hesitated there, but his son looked just as perplexed. "Iom tried... to talk to me in his own voice. It was more than words... it was a direct connection to my soul, speaking through pure thought and emotion, without translating through the... clunkiness of language. But I... couldn't understand it. It was beyond me. So Iom had to... translate what he was saying down to my mortal thought patterns. That I understood, but it... it was a crude form of what he really wanted to say, I think."

"Well... What was it? What did he say?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I couldn't do what he wanted me to do. My friends' lives, King Nicholas's life, and your mother's life were on the line. I couldn't do it."

There was an unpleasant silence.

"Can we..." Hindel held the bird aloft. "...Now?"

Deanna nodded. They proceeded to one of the many altars of the shrine. They passed only one fellow worshiper along the way; faith in Iom had been in severe decline ever since the destruction of the main shrine.

Hindel chose one of the smaller altars. After all his talk about how the shrine in his hometown didn't have big enough altars. There were no other worshipers at this altar; perhaps he chose it for privacy's sake.

Deanna stood back and watched as his son approached the altar. _My son. It's strange to see one's child choose such a different path through life than oneself. Not just Hindel, but all of them. I guess I ended up choosing a different path from my father, too, though I didn't mean to._

Hindel held the pigeon on the altar with one hand. With the other, he reached down to his belt and drew out his dagger. He took a breath, and intoned in a voice that echoed off the walls, "To Iom our masterful ruler, your servant, Hindel, offers you the blood of this humble beast. Accept my offering! Accept our sacrifice."

He plunged the dagger into the bird, killing it without hesitation or a moment's unsteadiness. Once the act was done, however, he slumped forward, his body overcome with a fit of trembling.

"Hindel!" Deanna rushed forward, heart clenched tight with sudden anxiety, and took hold of his son by the arms. "Hindel, are you all right?!"

Hindel shoved his father away from him. "I'm fine, Dad! Geez!"

He knew that he should feel only relief that his son was well, but the rebuff stung, all the more so because it was apparent that he _had_ overreacted. "I just... you just started trembling, and I was worried..."

"I just had a nervous twitch, okay?"

"You have to understand, Hindel..." He felt that he was rambling now, but he couldn't stop. "Your mother and I, we love you so much, and... if anything ever happened to you..."

"What do you think is going to happen to me, Dad?" Hindel demanded, in a voice which made clear that he didn't think his father had an answer to the question.

Deanna thought of Brehen's prophecy. He didn't believe in that, though, and he and Natasha had resolved to never tell him about that, in any case. But there _was_ something which frightened him, he realized for the first time, looking at his son here in Iom's main shrine, the blood of a fresh sacrifice all over his hands.

He swallowed. "Hindel, you're so devoted to Iom... And there's nothing wrong with being devout, believe me, I know that, but... with you seeing voluntary human sacrifice as so important... I'm afraid you might one day kill yourself for Iom."

The anger drained out of Hindel's face. "Dad... I..." Then he shook his head, and looked his father in the eye. "...I'm sorry if that notion upsets you, but whatever I do with my life, it's got to be _my_ decision."

That statement left them both silent for a moment.

Then Hindel said, "Look... Can I just... look around the shrine for myself for a while? I like being able to pray by myself."

Deanna nodded. "I have... other things to do in the city, anyway. I'll... meet you in our room at the palace tonight. ...Okay?"

"Yes. See you then."

Deanna felt that he should say something else, some response to Hindel's implication that he was willing to kill himself for Iom, but he couldn't think of anything. He wished Natasha were there. He'd become confident in his ability as a father, but there were still some things Natasha simply handled better than him. Speaking out when something was wrong would always be one of them.

He gave his son a nod and walked away.

* * *

Hindel felt utterly relieved that his father was gone. He meant well, but he just didn't understand the depths of his devotion to Iom. Which was odd, because his father was reasonably devout, but somehow...

And then there was that deep gnawing anxiety within himself. It had not passed when he performed the sacrifice, and his father had not failed to notice how he trembled with the shock of not being released from his suffering. Hindel knew, then, that he could not allow his father to be with him here.

He left the altar and walked down the corridor. If performing a sacrifice in Iom's central house of worship would not free him from his internal anxiousness or allow him to hear whatever message Iom had for him, what would? Hindel had no idea, but the question did not overly trouble him. Iom would not have sent out a summons to him unless there was a reasonable way for him to answer it. And simply being here, in this holy place, was soothing to him. If he remained here long enough, he was sure he would find the answer.

"Excuse me," he heard a voice say. "Are you lost?"

He turned his head in the direction of the voice, and saw that its owner was an older man with a solid build and a well-trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. His gaze was surprisingly warm.

"I..." Hindel began, but wasn't immediately sure how to finish.

"You seemed a little unsure of where you're going. If you're going to see the human sacrifice, you take a left right over there, go to the end of the hall, and not far away there's a big pair of doors. You can't miss it."

"...There's a..." A lump was swelling in his throat. "...human sacrifice... happening today?"

"You must be from out of town."

"Yes, I... I'm visiting to... see the shrine."

"You don't see that too often these days." The man gave a sad smile. "People have lost their faith."

"Yes," Hindel agreed, though half his mind was still on the human sacrifice.

"Can't blame 'em, though." The man turned to face a painting of Iom sheltering a coastal town from a tidal wave. "Iom sure hasn't been willing to protect us lately... or maybe he hasn't been _able_. First that war with Cypress ending so horribly, the destruction of Iom's greatest shrine, then the long struggle over who should succeed King Warderer, and then this shrine being torn apart by our own soldiers." He shrugged his shoulders. Hindel swallowed, helpless, wanting to say something in Iom's defense, but not finding the courage. "It was Sir Deanna, Lady Natasha, and Sir Edwin who helped us recover from those dark days... three people who have openly voiced their disapproval of full devotion to Iom. Iom certainly would not have used such people as his instruments, so where was he when we needed him?"

"We can't expect Iom to solve all our problems for us!" Hindel burst out. "If we're his people, we have to do better than that! If we don't, how can we expect him to save us when we really need him? He didn't choose us as his people just so we would turn into... into... into pampered children! We're supposed to use his gifts to make ourselves into something better! We..."

He trailed off. His words were true and right; he knew they were. But they were still only words. The man just looked at him, affected only mildly by the emotionalism of Hindel's outburst, and not at all by what he had to say. "You're surprisingly thoughtful for a young man your age. Maybe you have a point," he said, and, after a pause, shrugged. "Well, I won't keep you from the sacrifice, sir...?"

"...My name is Hindel."

"Ah. I'm Alric."

They shook hands, but Hindel's mind was already occupied once again with thoughts of the human sacrifice. As soon as Alric let go of his hand, he was on his way there.


	3. Chapter 3: Prison Visit

\- Chapter 3: Prison Visit -

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you, Sir Deanna?" the guard asked. "He can be very unsettling. I wouldn't want to face him alone, myself."

Deanna smiled, warmed by the compassion of the guard's gesture. "Thank you. I wouldn't want to either, but I have to. It wouldn't be right to have a guard hovering right there."

"As you wish, Sir Deanna. Call me if you need anything."

Deanna's smile faded as he walked down the stone steps. It was chill in the dungeon, and he briefly rubbed his arms before moving on. He didn't want to be here. He'd postponed this visit more than once, however, and he did feel obligated to keep the visits to at least once a year. He knew that Natasha felt guilty about the man's being imprisoned here, as though it were her fault that he'd tried to kill Carla; Deanna's visits helped appease her guilt. It was out of the question for Natasha to visit him herself, since Deanna knew how much he would upset her.

He stopped before the appropriate cell. "Brehen," he said softly, foolishly hoping that he would not answer.

He was curled up in a corner of the cell, half-dozing. He was an old man now; it was nearly 20 years since he had tried to kill their daughter, and imprisonment had not eased his aging. A long gray beard curled and knotted over his chest. The hair on his head had withered and largely disappeared, and the hands clutching vaguely at his pant legs were gnarled.

"Brehen," he repeated, risking a much louder tone, since it was apparent that he was already awake. "It's me. Deanna."

"Deaaaaaannnnnnnaaa," Brehen hissed through his lips, as though forcing his mouth to speak was an effort. He stumbled to his feet and lurched over to the cell door. "How delightful. Heh. Heh heh." He grinned, a smile marked by the eerie gaps of missing teeth.

"You can't intimidate me," Deanna said firmly. He was admittedly a bit unsettled, but he was able to hold that under control without difficulty. "I just came here to tell you that Carla will be getting married soon."

"Ah? Heh heh. Is that so? Well, who's the unlucky lad?"

He didn't emphasize "unlucky", but it had to be some sort of bait. In Deanna's past visits, Brehen almost always dropped such cryptic remarks, and prying into their meaning always led to his elaborating on some prophecy of doom, usually the one in which Hindel became a terrifying Iom warlord known as "The Cloud of Iom".

This time, Deanna wasn't biting. "His name is Ryan. He's a good man. He's very much in love with Carla. They're already talking about starting a family."

"They should wait. Not a good time for it. No, no. Not good at all. And what about your first born son, your pride and joy, your future executioner? What is he up to?"

"He's here in the capital with me," Deanna said, casually. A casual manner might settle Brehen down. "He wanted to visit the shrine here."

"The... shrine to Iom?" The prophet's hand was quivering.

"Yes."

"He's... going there?"

Deanna didn't like the look in Brehen's eye, but he pressed on regardless, as though unable to stop himself. "He's there right now."

Brehen's arm came through the bars with the swift suddenness of a praying mantis seizing its prey, and clutched Deanna's arm in a grip with the strength of madness behind it. "It's beginning," he said, his voice stern and sober. "It all begins today."

"What does?"

Brehen's eyes stared into his. "Your son's destiny."

Deanna took a breath. "Maybe. But not... the one you're thinking of. Hindel won't ever be a warlord. I've even... tried to get him to join the military, and he won't do it. He hates killing."

"He'll learn to love it," Brehen said, no trace of doubt in his voice. "Iom will teach him." He grip on Deanna's arm tightened. "This is your last chance. Killing him as a baby would have been easier, but if he lives past today, you won't be able to kill him at all. If you have any compassion for the thousands who will be brutally tortured and slaughtered at his orders, go now and kill him."

He stared at Brehen. In that moment, he couldn't remember when he'd felt a greater sensation of pity. He reached a hand up to Brehen's and very firmly but gently pried his fingers loose. He then took a step back, in case he should try it again. "I'm sorry we let this happen to you. I think you were already too far gone when we first met, when you tried to kill Carla, and it's not as if we didn't do what little we could to keep you from descending further into madness, but I'm still sorry we failed. No one should have to be tormented by the visions you're cursed with."

Brehen forced his face against the bars, his leathery skin seeming at one with it. "Whether I am mad or no, or tormented or no, my visions are true and infallible!"

"No," Deanna said, with more pity than ever. "They're not. They've all been accurate to some extent, but they're warped by your own fixation with violence. Hindel's just one example. You were right about his devotion to Iom, and it wouldn't surprise me if you're right about him becoming one of Iom's most powerful leaders. But his becoming a warlord, leading a bloody conquest of Emild, Cypress, Sharland, and Guardiana, and killing Natasha and me... that all was just your own distorted dreaming, you fantasizing death and slaughter into his life story. If it were really going to happen, Hindel would have started down that path by now." He sighed. "But you'll never accept that. You'd rather believe that the world will descend into a whirlpool of bloodshed than accept that you tried to kill an innocent baby for nothing."

"And you?" Brehen returned. "Would you accept the fact that your child must die to save the world from such a fate?"

"I wouldn't accept that anyone has to die based on projections with any uncertainty."

"That is irresponsible! You would risk the world perishing just to keep your hands clean?!"

Deanna did not answer that. He did have an answer, but the argument was futile. As he'd said, Brehen could never accept that he was wrong; his conscience would not allow him to live with what he'd done. That was something Deanna could not empathize with – he had always accepted his responsibility for any misdeed, however terrible – but he could at least understand it.

Instead, he reached down and removed a bundle he had tied to his belt. He tossed it through the bars. "Here." Brehen unwrapped it. It was a pair of pants, with some fruits. "They're not the best, but at least they're new. ...And Natasha picked those for you, from our garden. It's not much, but she thought you'd appreciate a change from prison food. ...I guess I can't expect you to think much of her forgiving you, but I think it means a lot."

Brehen picked through them. "Yes. A lot. Heh heh." The sternness and sobriety was again gone from his voice. "Hordes of monsters may be poised to eat us all alive, but we'll be fine so long as we have our fruit! Heh heh heh!"

The mad prophet was no longer playing attention to him, so Deanna decided to leave without the awkwardness of a goodbye. He doubted whether his visit had done any good, but there was no sense in remaining in a dark dungeon indefinitely. He walked back up the stone steps to the warmth and light that waited above.


	4. Chapter 4: Divine Revelation

\- Chapter 4: Divine Revelation -

Hindel expected the chamber where the human sacrifice was to take place to be nearly overflowing with worshipers. After all, unwilling human sacrifices had been against the law since before he was born, and willing ones were rare. Especially since, thanks in part to his parents' efforts, priests were now also required to turn down any would-be sacrifices who they suspected were merely suicidal. So witnessing a human sacrifice was a rare opportunity, one he was sure every devotee of Iom would want to take advantage of.

Instead, he found the chamber with more spaces empty than taken, and only a slow trickle of people stepping in. Nor was he early; the sacrifice was already seated on the altar, awaiting only the priest's invocation of the ceremony.

The sacrifice was a young man. Younger even than Hindel himself, by his estimating. He was seated cross-legged, dressed in a simple white robe, and looked calm, peaceful. His eyes did not linger even slightly upon any of the people around him, as though he were already beyond them.

The sight of the sacrifice should have excited Hindel, or soothed somewhat his aching restlessness, his nagging doubt. Instead, he only felt more lost than ever. The lack of attendance at this most sacred rite made him burn with loneliness. Even most of those there seemed disinterested, irreverent, as though their attendance at such sacrifices were no more than rote practice of a religion that no longer meant anything to them. Wasn't there anyone else who felt for Iom the way he did, who understood just how important he was?

He tried to force such feelings aside. They were as inappropriate for this holy place as the indifference of his fellow worshipers. He thought of Iom, of his divine hunger that would soon be appeased. He thought of the nobility of a person sacrificing himself to help repay the incomparable debt their entire nation owed to Iom. He closed his eyes, clasped his hands in a simple prayer to Iom, and found his way to a good place to kneel down.

The heat from the sacrificial pool stroked his front side, and the scent of holy fire filled his nostrils. He felt a sort of comfort; however lacking in sincerity the rest of Iom's worshipers might be, he at least would give their god his due.

Then he heard something. Though "heard" was not the right word for it. It was like a voice, but it did not use words, and made no sound. It was like a voice because it was telling him to do something, and it was not something that of himself he felt any urge to do. It seemed to be telling him to turn and look _over there_.

He briefly wondered if this could be the voice of Iom, but soon realized that could not be the case. Whatever this "voice" was, there was nothing in it to inspire awe or reverence, something which both common sense and his father's account told him Iom's voice would have. And even though the "voice" was not his, it somehow seemed to come from _within_ himself.

Hindel saw little harm in doing what he was told, if only to see why the voice wanted him to do it. So he turned his head in the indicated direction and opened his eyes.

There, centered in his line of vision, was a girl kneeling before the altar. Her face was immaculately smooth, with forehead, eyelids, mouth, and cheeks forming a perfectly linked set of graceful slopes, like hills layered with fresh snow. Surrounding them was dark hair done in a short, modest cut. She wore a loose-fitting, conventional dress with a drab skirt which pooled around her bent knees. In every physical respect she was plain, pure, leaving nothing to distract from the firm, quiet devotion which she directed towards the altar of Iom.

Hindel was stricken with the urge to talk to her, to learn more about this person who seemed, at a glance, to share his sincere and unwavering love for Iom. But he did not have the courage, and now was not the time; he could not disturb her prayer. Instead, he got up from his place, walked over to a spot near her, and again knelt down to pray.

Satisfied with the hope that his proximity would give him the chance to speak to her once the service was over, he allowed his thoughts to return wholly to Iom. He began whispering to himself one of his favorite chants, "Iom save us. Iom protect us. We live to your endless glory. We die to join your being. We are your people forever."

As he began his fourth recitation of the chant, however, he suddenly began trembling. It was there again: the restless uneasiness, the nameless fear that threatened to consume him, that seemed capable of consuming the whole world. He clutched his hands more tightly together in order to subdue the shaking, but his internal suffering would not stop.

"Are you okay?"

The voice was gentle, and light, as though its owner feared to weigh down the world with her words. Hindel knew, even before he opened his eyes and looked up, that it was the voice of the girl praying beside him. She was looking at him with sincere concern, and he could now see her eyes: brown, rounded, unassuming.

"I-I'm f-fine," he answered, stuttering with the turmoil burning inside him. He controlled it with an effort. "I'm sorry I disturbed your prayer."

"Don't worry about it." She did not smile, but her expression conveyed not coldness, but quiet sympathy. "Nothing is more important than Iom, but I think he doesn't mind if we defer our prayers in order to help another of his people. Are you sure you're okay?"

"It's... just something that happens to me sometimes. I don't really know why. But it's happened to me ever since I can remember." She was still looking at him. Hindel couldn't think why he was telling her this when he'd never even talked to his parents about it, except that his parents wouldn't accept his devotion to Iom, and she, as someone who shared that devotion, probably would. "Anyway, it seems to go away when I do Iom's will. It's just that sometimes it takes me a while to figure out what Iom's will _is_."

"Well, that puts you one step ahead of most of us, doesn't it?" She spoke without humor or irony. "Most people are never really sure what Iom's will is."

"Sometimes I think most of them aren't even trying." He quickly caught himself. "I don't mean you, of course."

"I know what you mean," she sighed. "But we shouldn't just condemn them. I think most of them just need a wake-up call. You know, something to remind them that Iom is really there and that it's our responsibility to serve him."

Her voice was friendly, conversational, but the words cut him deep. She was right, he realized. He'd been too quick to give up on his fellow Iomites, too ready to write them off as a lost cause and accept himself as the only one worthy of Iom. If he wasn't willing to even try to bring people back to Iom, how could he expect Iom to forgive his failure to do so?

He was about to say more to his companion when they heard the sound of the bell signaling the start of the ceremony. With that, their attention snapped back to the altar, where the priest was stepping forth to say the invocation.

"People of Iom," the priest intoned. He was, as one would expect of one entrusted with performing a human sacrifice, elder enough to have experience but not elder enough to be physically infirm. "We are gathered here to witness and celebrate the bestowal of the most precious gift we can give to our god: a human life. This life is given in sacrifice, but it is not wiped away or destroyed. Rather, it becomes a part of something far greater than itself, a piece of the essence and substance of the fearful and eternal Iom..."

Hindel listened to the priest's words and, though the deep uneasiness within him remained, there came over him a sort of acceptance. He saw that faith and devotion to Iom was at an ebb, but he saw too that whatever happened, Iom would remain and people would continue to offer sacrifices to him. And for the first time, he saw that the former was trivial next to the latter. He still should, and would, do all he could to turn his countrymen back to the worship of Iom, but however successful he might be at that endeavor, his religion would remain long after he was gone.

There was reassurance in that. It was good to know that the things that were most important to him would remain, would not be torn down with the coming ages, or blown away and forgotten.

The opening rite was concluded, and the acolytes helped the young sacrifice lay down upon the sacrificial slab. The priest approached him. "Thwain, son of Jacob, do you give your life to Iom?"

The young man answered calmly, but with deep reverence and love, "With all my heart."

At this declaration, the acolytes moved to tie his wrists and ankles to the corners of the slab. This was not to prevent him from trying to escape, of course, but was just in case his survival instinct should unexpectedly kick in and prompt him to leap off the slab, which would most likely result in a more painful and wasted death. Hindel had heard that this step was dispensed with as unnecessary if the priest knew the spell Levitate, but such an advanced spell was not widely known.

The acolytes moved to work the pulley system to which the slab was attached, and in moments they had raised the sacrifice to hover above the sacrificial pool.

The priest raised his hands. "Oh Iom, our masterful ruler! Your servants offer you the blood of this devoted human, his life freely given to you. Accept our offering! Accept our sacrifice."

The slab was released, and the sacrifice fell into the pool. And just like that, the young man was gone. Given over to Iom. Dead.

Hindel trembled. He'd never seen another person die before. He wondered whether there had been an instant of searing, unbearable pain before he died, or if the flesh was liquified from his bones too quickly for him to feel anything.

His mother had talked to him many times about the evils of human sacrifice. But to actually witness it firsthand, to see another person meet their end in that way, all the while aware that it could one day be him falling into the sacrificial pool, was...

...was a profound revelation. That was the only phrase Hindel could think of to describe it. In one moment, he felt that he at last truly understood the practice of sacrifice. Up until now, he realized, he'd been performing sacrifices solely because it was his duty to Iom. It was only now that he realized the true significance of the act. Nothing he had seen in all of his long life could even hold a candle to that young man's willing surrender of everything he had to Iom. Compared to the devastating beauty and power of his sacrifice, Hindel's slaying of small animals for Iom was less than a pittance. Yet at the same time, he saw greater value in those small sacrifices than he ever had before.

He bowed his head, overcome by the magnificence of what he had witnessed, and by the urge to run outside and proclaim it to the world.

Then someone spoke to him.

Like before, it resembled a voice but with no words and no sound. But this was nothing like the first voice. This was not a mere urge; it was something which spoke to the very depths of his soul, with emotions deeper and stronger than any mortal mind could appreciate. But its meaning was clear to Hindel. The voice said, translated to crude human terms, that it was pleased with Hindel.

And he realized who was speaking to him.

Hindel bowed down until his forehead touched the shrine floor. "My god," he said, in a voice barely more than a hoarse gasp. "My god."

The voice dismissed his reaction. It told him that Iom welcomed fear from dissidents, rebels, and unbelievers, but not from his loyal followers.

Hindel heeded his god's word, and rose back up to a normal kneeling position. "But... I don't understand," he said, keeping his voice low so as not to draw the attention of others. He knew that Iom could hear him no matter how quietly he spoke. "You haven't been revived, have you? So how can you be talking to me? And..." Another thought struck him. "...how can I understand what you're saying? My father told me that your thoughts were too deep and complex for him to understand until you reduced them to human language."

Iom told him that the answer to both questions lay with Hindel himself. Then he proceeded to show him.

Hindel beheld a scene in an unfamiliar room, which Iom communicated to him was Castle Cypress's Chamber of Casting. The place was in shambles, with people lying unconscious all about, some of them trapped under the rubble that was strewn everywhere. At the center of the chaos was a short, violet-haired elf mage in combat with a dwarf, a centaur knight, and a human mage. Though the human mage was his own age, Hindel recognized her as his mother. He recognized the dwarf, too, by his distinctive practice of wearing a pot on his head; it was an old friend of his parents, who had visited them on a couple occasions.

All this could have been seen by any witness to the event. But Hindel, through this vision, saw more. He saw people as Iom sees them, not as physical fleshy forms, but as bright pulsing souls, shining cores of brilliant nourishing light, giving off every sort of color.

And because of this, Hindel was able to see that there were more than four people involved in the battle. Warmed by the tender loving light of his mother's soul was Hindel himself, an unborn child nestled inside her womb, too small physically for her to notice him. Yet her soul had instinctively woven a cradling net of protection around his soul. It moved Hindel to see his mother's loving nature so beautifully manifested in this cradling net.

He saw, too, that the soul within the elf mage was bound to Iom. Not simply loyal to him, but bound to his will and infused with his power.

The elf mage cast a spell, and directed it at Hindel's mother. She fell to the ground, stunned, unconscious. But that part, the part which was witnessed by her two comrades, was but a minor side effect of the spell. Its primary effect was to tear through the cradling net which surrounded Hindel's soul, leaving him vulnerable and defenseless. It was the shock of this which had rendered his mother unconscious.

The elf mage triumphed over his two remaining opponents as well, then turned to leave the room. But Iom had not abandoned the infant Hindel. The adult Hindel saw now that one of the many people lying about the room was _not_ unconscious, at least not in the same way as the others were. Rather, she was willfully in a comatose state as she focused her entire conscious being on the most intricate and delicate of spells. The soul of this woman was not bonded to Iom, but Iom reassured Hindel that she was indeed, at this time at least, his faithful servant.

Through his vision of the ephemeral, Hindel saw the form of the spell extending, reaching out for the infant Hindel's soul. Carefully, with infinite delicacy, it opened up a stitch in one side of his soul and began weaving in a thread drawn from Iom's being. It wove it in deep, binding, secure, never to be torn loose.

As the spell did its work, a man burst into the room, and raced to his fallen mother to revive her. It took but a moment for Hindel to recognize the man as his father, though it was still startling to see him and his mother like this, so young. At their proximity to each other, his parents' souls took on a striking glow. It was no surprise to see that they loved each other deeply even back then, but their love was so different here. It was desperate, a constant fear that some ill might befall the other, and a readiness to do everything in one's power to prevent that.

Even as they spoke to each other, the spell continued its work. After all, it was not part of the physical plane, so nothing done in the physical plane could stop or even inhibit it, except violence against the caster. And it was clear that his parents had no desire to harm anyone.

They were engaged in intense discussion with a man lying nearby, trapped under a huge armored beastman. Hindel could understand little of what they were saying, but he watched as his mother's soul started re-weaving the net of protection around his soul. It did not matter, though, as the spell cast by Iom's servant had been completed, the thread was woven in, and the stitch had been closed again. Hindel's soul was bound, from that moment on, to Iom, and would be until the day he died.

With that, the vision faded, and Hindel was back in the present. But he understood the answer he had been given. So long as he offered his full devotion to Iom, his god would be able to speak to him no matter where he was, and Hindel would be able to understand. The thread binding them together ensured that.

The thread was also the answer to a question Hindel _hadn't_ asked. The gnawing fear and uneasiness that came to him on occasion, and which had driven him to come to this shrine, was a simple manifestation of his inner need to obey Iom. It was not unlike the bridle and reins used to lead a beast of burden. It guided him along Iom's will, keeping him from going astray.

But even these important answers paled against the revelation that he had been chosen by Iom himself, even before he was born. Tears of joy ran down Hindel's face at the singular honor he'd been given, to be picked out of all humanity by Iom himself.

"Iom, my god," he whispered. "You must have done this to me for a reason. What is the task you chose me for? Please, tell me, so I can start working on it."

In reply, Iom told Hindel that he was meant for many great things, but the time was not right to tell him what they were. It would set him up for potential disappointment, since even Iom's plans do not always come to fruition. Moreover, some of the things Hindel was meant to do were unpleasant, and telling him of them now would only weaken his resolve. For now, it was enough that Hindel had come to this shrine and witnessed his first human sacrifice here, as Iom had told him to.

"But... what do I do now? Should I stay here, at the shrine, instead of going back home with my father?"

The response was a wave of stern, authoritative indifference, like a father whose son has just asked him whether he should play with his blocks or his toy soldiers. Hindel understood, and silently reprimanded himself. Being Iom's chosen follower was a duty, not a release from having to think for himself and make his own decisions in life. Iom wanted him as a servant, not a slave.

He bowed his head. "Thank you, Iom. Thank you... for everything."

Iom's voice was gone. But it did not leave Hindel feeling empty. He knew, now, that he had a great and wonderful purpose in life.

A hand was placed on his shoulder. "I hate to ask this again, but... are you okay?"

He turned to the girl and said, without thinking, "Iom spoke to me."

She blinked, startled. "Truly? You're not teasing?"

Hindel hesitated. His heart pounded with the desire to stand up and proclaim loudly to everyone within earshot that Iom had spoken to him. Yet his head questioned how many who heard would believe him. He himself wouldn't know what to think if one of the many strangers in attendance at the sacrifice were to announce that Iom had spoken to him, so how could he expect anyone else to be so credulous?

But this girl was different. She was not a stranger; he did no harm in telling her.

"I'd never tease about something like that," he answered.

"What did he say?"

"Well, he..." He hesitated again. What he'd seen was very private, and besides, he couldn't think of a way to tell her about it without it sounding like boasting. "...He showed me something very important about myself. It's hard to explain."

They were interrupted by the priest giving the formal dismissal. The sound of his voice made Hindel feel ashamed for having been talking during the ceremony, but he quickly dismissed this reaction. After all, he'd only been talking because Iom himself had been talking to him, and that clearly superseded any ceremony, even a human sacrifice. Besides, at least he'd been paying full attention through the sacrifice itself.

"Well," the girl said, and faintly cleared her throat. "You'll tell me more about it sometime, then?"

"I... I'd love to," Hindel said, fumbling in his inexperience. There was nothing romantic about the request, simply two devotees of Iom having a conversation about their god, but it was coming from an attractive girl roughly his age. "But I'm, uh, not from around here. My father and I, we're going back to my hometown again tomorrow and... Well, I mean, I guess we could come again someday. Uh, you're from around here, right?"

"Not quite." She made a sort of self-deprecating smile. "I'm from a tiny little nothing farming village near here. It's less than half a day's journey, so I visit this shrine fairly often."

"Then... We can, uh, meet here again sometime?"

"Of course." She cocked her head. "Why are you so nervous? I know we just met, but... I feel like we have a common vision, of sorts. Maybe that's putting it a bit too strongly, but -"

"Oh no; that's what I think too." He hadn't meant to interrupt, but the response came out of him almost in a panic. This bothered him, not because of the rudeness, but because it was so unlike him. It was as though he were an actor who'd just jumped into an entirely different role.

"Oh," she said, as though a thought had suddenly struck her. "You're probably wondering why we can't just go somewhere and talk now. Um, there is a reason, but I... I'd rather not tell you about it right now."

It relieved him somewhat to see some nervousness on her part. "Then I guess when we meet again, you'll have a story to trade for mine?"

"Yes," she smiled, apparently with some mild relief at his response. She held her hand out to him. "I'm Nancie."

It surprised him that he'd let the conversation go this far without their introducing themselves. He took Nancie's hand and shook it. "I'm Hindel. I'm glad to meet you." Her hand was fairly soft, but her grip was firm.

He said a last few prayers before leaving the shrine. Looking at it from an abstract point-of-view, it was rather funny that after the monumental experience of having Iom speak to him directly, and the life-changing revelation that his god had chosen him from before he was born to do his will, he could still feel so enthusiastic about a little thing like having made the acquaintance of an attractive girl. But the truth was, the emergence of these new cornerstones in his life, paradoxically, made everything else all the more important. His being Iom's chosen one meant that anything of significance that happened to him was part of Iom's plan.

He half-ran the last few blocks to the palace, so great was his excitement to see his father again. It felt like it had been a year since they'd last spoken. When he reached the door of their room, he made a very rapid knocking, which would perhaps explain why his father looked so concerned and bewildered when he opened the door.

Hindel threw his arms around his father, holding himself close in a fierce hug.

"H... Hindel?" his father managed.

"I love you, Dad," he said. "I'm so sorry about what I said before, and how I treated you... I'm _not_ going to sacrifice myself to Iom. There's too much for me to do to just end my life, and I'm sorry I let you think I might do that. I'm sorry."

"Son... that's alright." He put one arm around Hindel's shoulders, and clasped the back of his head with the other hand. "I was just worried about you."

"You were _really_ worried about me. And I -"

"Hindel." His father pulled his head back slightly so that he could look him in the face. The thought struck Hindel that, yes, he and his father looked quite different in many ways, but there was enough similarity that anyone would recognize them as father and son. "I've been hurt before, many times. That doesn't matter. All that matters to me is that you're going to be okay."

"Thanks, Dad," Hindel said, happy tears running down his face. He didn't think he'd ever realized before just how much his father loved him. "I'm going to be more than okay. From now on, everything is going to get a lot better for me. I can feel it."

* * *

Brehen waited for a minute or two after the guard went on patrol, to make sure he would not suddenly return for something he'd forgotten. Then he went to the back of his cell, shifted his bed, and began pulling away bricks.

For years he had let himself rot in this miserable cell, foolishly hoping that he'd eventually be able to make a deal like the one he'd made with the late high priest Leifo. But he never saw anyone but guards and close intimates of Deanna and Natasha like lieutenants Jengh and Frecor, and they all thought his visions and prophecies to be a symptom of madness. He could not even convince them to pass word of his visions on to people who might arrange for his release. Brehen did, for instance, know how Lord Alan and Lady Jessa's daughter might avoid a horrible death, but it did him no good if he could not get word to them of it.

And so, at last realizing the futility of hoping that his visions might do him any good, he had reconciled himself to the long process of chiseling out his own escape route. It had taken years: collecting bits of broken plates and stone chips to use as tools, working at the mortar between the bricks when the guards weren't around, hiding his work by carefully replacing any successfully loosened bricks and rearranging his bed. To ensure his captors would not regard him with suspicion, he did the best he could at acting out encroaching madness; if they thought him mad for his visions, he would gladly play the part.

When he finally had opened up a hole in his cell wide enough for him to escape through, however, he found he lacked the nerve to go through with it. That little hole in his cell had taken years of his life to build, and if he were caught trying to escape – as he very likely would be – all that work would be undone. He could not bear the thought of such a sizable chunk of his life simply going to waste. So the hole was left untouched.

Deanna's visit, however, had galvanized him into action. His visions were not enough to give him precise information on when Deanna and Natasha's son would become Iom's warlord, but given that his visit to the shrine was now taking place, it could be no more than four months away. And perhaps as little as a week.

There could be no more delays. If he was to stop the horrifying future that had been his nightmare for the past nineteen years, he had to kill Hindel now.


	5. Chapter 5: Nighttime Reflections

\- Chapter 5: Nighttime Reflections -

"Dad?"

They were lying in their beds in their room at the palace. It was a cool night, perfect for lying snugly under the covers. Hindel was quite happy with his bed at home, but the soft, rich, warm quilts of the palace chambers were a welcome treat.

"Yes, son?"

"Why did you and Mom decide to have me?"

There was a pause as his father sighed and shifted the covers over himself. "Well... Your mother always wanted a big family. She was very close to her parents, and to her brothers and sisters, and... they were all killed when she was young. You knew that, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I think that made her... feel extra motivated to start her on family, to take something beautiful Woldol had torn down and... build it up again. She's always been the kindest person alive, always wanted... to make the world a more joyful place."

"Yeah." Hindel smiled. "That's Mom."

"And when she and I got married, she loved me so much... that it was easy and natural to do that, to start having children."

There was a minute of silence. Then Hindel ventured, "So... That's why Mom wanted to have me. What about you?"

"Oh."

"Dad?" His father's failure to immediately answer made him anxious.

"I'm just thinking of how to explain..." He sighed. "When I was young, I... was a very weak person. I never thought I'd get married... I thought your uncle would always take care of me. Your mother changed all that, but... it was a while before I really adjusted to the idea of me being a father. So when we first started out, I just thought... Natasha wants children, so I'll do my best to give her children. Then we had Carla." His father's tone became wistful. "Carla made us both very happy... and she... changed me. As soon as I saw her, I knew that I could really be a father. And after my first day with her, I knew I wanted a son, too." He turned his head to look at Hindel. "Does that... answer your question?"

"Yes." Hindel smiled, picturing his parents at his age, smiling at each other with the same love he saw between them now, albeit without the experience of years between them; his elder sister, a newborn babe, in their mother's arms, a focus of his parents' utmost devotion; and the path of destiny turning the last corner before his own conception. A day ago, he'd never have thought to ask his father about the circumstances of his conception, but the revelation that he was Iom's chosen servant made it a matter of newfound importance. "Thanks, Dad."

"...Are you... thinking of having children?" In the extreme hesitancy with which he spoke the question, Hindel recognized not parental prodding or pressuring, but simple curiosity.

"Nope, not right now. I was just curious."

"So you've never met anyone... who you think... well... who you think might be a good mother for your children?"

Unbidden, the image of Nancie flashed to the forefront of his mind. "Not yet."

Something in his voice must have sounded off, because his father said in a doubtful tone, "You don't have to be afraid to tell me, Hindel. If there is someone, we don't have to talk about her if you don't want to. I just wanted to know."

"No, it's not that," Hindel said, more sharply than he intended. "It's just... we only just met." He was glad it was too dark for his father to see him blush. It felt wrong to be talking about Nancie in this context, when they had indeed only just met, and he had no one to blame but himself. Why did he have to think of her like that? A pure-hearted girl like that... if she knew that he'd so quickly developed such feelings for her, she would be disgusted.

"I see. If you want to talk about it... now, or ever..."

"Yes."

"I... probably wouldn't be able to give you any good advice, since my experience with your mother was so unusual. But I'm willing to listen. And keep it all just between us, if that's what you want."

"Yes. ...Thanks, Dad." He realized he was wrong to reprimand himself over Nancie. His feelings for her were, after all, mostly friendly. As for what went beyond that, it was merely a glimpse of the future, of what might eventually be between them. He might fall in love with her, marry her, and start a family with her. Or they might break up. Or they might never be more than friends. Whichever way it went, it fell into Iom's plans for him, and was already determined. It was too important to be left to chance. Knowing that both relaxed him, and gave him a pleasing anticipation of what was to come. "Not now, though."

"All right." There was a pause. "Good night, son."

"Good night, Dad."

* * *

The city loomed over Brehen like some mountain-sized cyclops weighing whether or not the tiny creature at its feet was worthwhile prey. He huddled deeper into the shadows of the street corner and shuddered.

Freedom was more terrifying than he could have imagined. Nearly 20 years of imprisonment had left the outside world strange and unfamiliar. Even his constant dreams had not kept him in sufficient touch with the realm outside his cell, for his dreams took him all over the world, and thus provided only short glimpses of any one place. It was mortifying to look upon something so simple as a window or a street and know that it was actually there before him, not part of a vision of somewhere and somewhen else.

And to see other people... that was absolutely terrifying. Each time someone passed by, his heart pounded with the fear that they would recognize him as an escaped prisoner and call for the guards. He actually contemplated returning to his cell to keep his escape route from being discovered; it would be better to live in prison with the eternal hope of freedom than to risk that hope being shut off forever.

Fortunately, he had an alternative. He turned his steps towards a certain home, keeping to the shadows as best he could.

"Home." That was something he hadn't known for a long time, even before his imprisonment. His family hadn't taken kindly to his visions, especially when they saw one of them come true. They'd blamed him for his brother's foretold death, and tried to have him burned. Fortunately, he knew their murderous intent not from life, but from another of his dreams. It was the first – and still only – occasion where he'd dreamt of his own fate. He fled before they could carry it out.

In the series of apprenticeships which followed, he was more careful about how he revealed his dreams to other people. After all, even assuming they'd believe him, there was no use in telling people that someone was going to be murdered in some place called Thornwood three years from now, and still less in telling people that someone was going to be murdered in a place and time he couldn't identify from his dream. In the rare cases where something could be done about the future events he'd witnessed, he did his best to find some excuse for getting involved, rather than telling anyone directly about the dream. But even then, he sensed he could never fit in with the rest of the world. Once he'd learned all he could learn to help him survive and avert the events in his visions, he had adopted the life of a lone nomad. There was no need, or use, in anything else.

He supposed he could have avoided all this, lived a perfectly stable and comfortable life, if he'd just kept his mouth shut about his dreams. But he couldn't stand to just allow them to come true, to turn into nightmares. He was willing to make sacrifices to continue in his work.

Still, that did not make "home" any less appealing a concept. Perhaps that was why, rather then going directly to accomplish his mission to kill Hindel, his steps were turning towards this home.

It was a stone house, with no front steps, built on little more than the cobbles of the city streets. Yet warmth seemed to project from it. He knocked on the heavy wooden door.

An answer was not immediately forthcoming. Realizing that the hour was somewhat late, he repeated the knock, more insistently. He waited a few moments longer, and then the door poked open. A bald, heavily mustached face peered out.

"Yes?" Brehen answered him with a steady look. "What is it? What do you want?" the man said, in a tone which suggested that the only reason he was still holding the door open was because he suspected that if he closed it right now, the insistent knocking would resume.

"Favwell... don't you remember me?" Brehen said. "I know it's been over 20 years, but after what I did for Arabella, I thought..."

Favwell squinted. As he examined every inch of Brehen's face, he said slowly, "My god... Brehen? ...Is that really you?"

"If there is a need to prove it, I can tell -"

"My god, what's happened to you? Come in, come in!"

The door to the home opened wide. Brehen stepped forward, and Favwell almost pulled him the rest of the way inside before closing the door behind them. The room was the same as it was the last time Brehen had visited: a combination of dining room, kitchen, and living room, with a small wood stove, a table with five well-worn chairs set around it, a few cupboards, and little else. A door on each side of the room led to the two bedrooms.

"Sit down, sit down." Favwell's arm nudged him towards one of the chairs. "You look terrible. Marie!"

"I hope that I didn't wake you up," Brehen said, noticing that Favwell was in his nightgown.

"No, not at all. We were just about to settle down. Marie!"

Favwell's wife Marie, a short, spindly woman with her hair tied back in a just slightly graying bun, hustled in. "Yes, yes, what is it?"

"Marie, it's Brehen!"

Her hands went to her mouth. "Oh, my... It's really you. I didn't think we'd see you again!"

"Can you fix him something to eat, Marie? He looks ready to collapse from hunger."

"Yes, yes. We have some steak left, Brehen, if you would care for that?"

Brehen's stomach seemed to cry for joy at the liberation from meager prison meals. "I don't think anything would sound better. Yes, please."

Marie busied herself with the cooking, letting the two men do the talking while she listened, outside of their notice. Such was her way.

Favwell sat down opposite Brehen. "So, what's happened to you?"

"Unfortunately, in many places I'm blamed for my prophecies. I've been in prison for 20 years, and I'm afraid now that I've found my way out, I need your help." Marie handed him a glass of water, and he took a sip. "How is Arabella?"

"Very well, thanks to you. She's gotten married, to a tax collector at that, so naturally she's moved out." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think she really believes you exist, you know. We told her about what happened once she was old enough to understand, but as she's grown older I think she's dismissed it as a parental fairy tale."

Brehen folded his arms and shook his head. "I didn't save her life to win her gratitude."

"Well, we're grateful, at least. With all the visions of the future you see, spending your time with a modest household like ours is... well, it's awfully benevolent."

"To save a life is always worth my while. It's what gives my visions meaning."

Favwell nodded, thoughtful. "Is that what you're needing our help with, then? You have another life to save?"

"No. It's bigger than that this time." He was interrupted by the sound of a baby crying. Puzzled, he turned his head to look. The door to the bedroom was open, and in the dark he could just make out the baby lying in Arabella's old crib. "Who is that?"

"Tomas's little one," Favwell answered with a smile. "He's off on a trip right now, but he left his little girl in the care of her grandparents."

"May I see?" He waited for only a brief nod from Favwell before getting up out of his seat and going to the bedroom. Lying within was a small, weeping bundle of innocence.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" he heard Favwell say.

He just nodded in reply. This, he reminded himself, was why his mission was so important. People like this had to be preserved, protected against the many forces which stood to rend and destroy them.

"This time," he said aloud, "...the threat I'm trying to avert is much larger in scale. A warlord is fated to rise up from this nation and turn the entire continent into a place of bloodshed and terror. The man who is to become this warlord is in this very city right now."

"Oh," Favwell said, and he thought he could hear an abrupt pause in Marie's cooking. "What do you plan to do?"

"I must kill him. It's too late for anything else. I've been trying to stop this prophecy for over 20 years, and I've failed. Unless I kill him now, the madness begins in a matter of months." He turned away from the baby and went back to his chair to sit down. "I'm not sure where he's staying tonight. Perhaps in an inn, but far more likely in the palace, I'm afraid. If I go there, I'll be certainly caught and executed."

"Then what sort of help do you want from us? Do you want us to help you check the inns?"

"Definitely not. That would put you in danger for little probable benefit. My first thought was that I should strike now, before he is alerted of my escape, but... No, he is most likely in the palace, and I have no way of getting to him there. I could try the inns, but it would be better to wait until I can be certain of success. Wait for him in a place where I know he'll be." He stopped himself, and turned to face Favwell. For a moment, he realized, he'd forgotten that he was actually talking to someone else for a change, instead of just himself. "So... what I need from you... is sanctuary. Let me stay here for a few days, until my opportunity comes. I realize this is asking a great deal, but -"

"Nonsense," Favwell interjected. "We owe you more than we can ever repay. We'd be happy to have you stay with us."

Marie brought him the steak. His stomach murmured in anticipation of the long-delayed repast.


	6. Chapter 6: Leaving the Nest

\- Chapter 6: Leaving the Nest -

"It shouldn't have come to this," Brehen said, wiping the blood from his dagger into the dirt. "You were an innocent – only doing your job."

Nonetheless, the now-dead messenger would have brought about the world's ruination, by alerting Deanna, Natasha, and the rest of the family of his escape. If he was to finally slay Hindel, he needed to make use of the element of surprise. It was his only chance now.

He began gathering stones for a crude burial of the messenger's corpse. Just one more corpse, Brehen hoped, to prevent there being a thousand more.

* * *

"You have _got_ to be kidding."

Hindel often suspected that Joshua was the single most obnoxious little brother in the history of the world, or at least Iom. In an illustration of this point, he didn't simply stress the word "got" the way a normal person would; he actually tripled the volume of his voice when he pronounced the word. This had an undeniably grating effect, and knowing his brother, Hindel had little doubt that that was why he did it.

By now, though, it had become so routine that ignoring it was second nature, not that that eliminated the irritation. "I'm leaving, Joshua," Hindel repeated, stuffing his books into his knapsack, already fairly stuffed with his clothes.

Joshua leaned over the edge of his bunk, resting his chin in his palms. "In five minutes Mom's going to give you a lecture, you're going to cave, and you'll be sharing a bunk with me like usual. You might as well just start unpacking now."

"The only reason Mom and Dad were able to talk me out of leaving before was because they made me not want to go. This time, it's not about my wanting to go." He tied up his knapsack. "I _have_ to go."

"Yeeeeeaaaahhh..." Joshua drawled. "See, even if I believed that, you can't possibly come up with a reason for leaving _now_. I mean, just like that? Even Dusty isn't planning to move out for another two weeks."

"Dusty's plans have nothing to do with mine." He looked up. "I'll miss you, Josh."

"I don't think so." The line of Joshua's mouth straightened. "Dusty'll miss me. You? You've got no sense of humor. You'll miss the girls more than me."

"I have a perfectly good sense of humor. You're just not very funny," Hindel returned.

"Nah, that's not it. You don't have a sense of humor about _anything_. You're even leaving because of your nutty religion, aren't you?"

That should not have stung, but it did. For all his flippancy, Joshua really did understand him better than almost anyone; they'd been sleeping in the same bunk bed for almost all their lives, after all. "What do you think is nutty about giving what's due to the god who protects us all?"

"Come on, Hind. How do you even know that this 'god' exists?"

Serious though Joshua's tone was, Hindel should have considered the possibility that he was just teasing. He didn't, at least not until after he'd answered, "Are you crazy? Josh, Mom and Dad _saw_ Iom!"

"Yeeeeeaaaahhh... They saw a big ugly monstrous thing that didn't even talk, and popped out of a pit in a shrine to Iom, with a master wizard like Warderer standing right there?" As Hindel stared, Joshua broke out into a small giggling fit. "Face it... hee hee... Mom and Dad... hoo hoo... got duped by a phony puppet god. Built by the Iom worshipers themselves."

"Why would they do that?"

"The Iom worshipers? Dunno for sure. I figure back when our nation was founded, they made up Iom to give themselves something to believe in, something they could share pride in. Then once the religious order was set up, the priests didn't want to lose the power that comes with the robes, so they set up props like the one Mom an' Dad saw."

Hindel considered in silence for a moment. Then he said, "Do you really believe that, or are you just saying that to get me to give up on leaving and becoming a priest of Iom?"

"I really believe it. But even if Iom is real, you're still nutty for wanting to spend your whole life kneeling and sacrificing people to him."

"Don't you think that if Iom exists, he's kind of important?"

"Nah. I mean, the Light definitely exists, and probably so do some of the other gods, but what difference do they make? They don't do anything to me."

He definitely was telling the truth. Hindel knew his brother well enough to tell that. But there had to be a reason why Joshua was only telling him this now, and not on any of the occasions when Hindel had talked to him about religion before. It wasn't hard to guess what that reason was.

"I'll miss you, Josh," he said again. "But I'll be back, and someday I'll show you how wrong you are about Iom. That's a promise."

"Ugh, that's so corny. You make it sound like you'll be doing me a favor."

Hindel shrugged, and turned to leave, only to find the door to their room blocked by Dusty. The eldest of his younger brothers, Dusty towered nearly half a foot above him now, and every inch was built on finely hewn muscle. His eyes practically shone with confidence and earnestness. At a glance, there would have been no question that of the three brothers, Dusty was the most ready for life.

"So..." Dusty said, glancing at Hindel's knapsack full of belongings. "...you really are leaving?"

"Yeah."

There was a brief silence. Dusty scratched at his jaw. "To become a priest of Iom?"

"Yeah."

"To murder people in the name of a god that hates this entire family?"

Hindel sighed. "We've debated the morality of Iom worship before, Dusty..."

"And I won."

Hindel lowered his gaze. "Yeah. You 'won'." He thought that his brother's naivete should amuse him, but it simply pissed him off. "But guess what? I'm still my own person. I 'lost' the argument, you're right and I'm wrong, but I'm still leaving to become a priest of Iom."

Dusty's eyes blazed with righteous anger now. "How can you -"

"Can we not fight now, Dusty? I'm already going to hear plenty of what you're gonna say from Mom. It's not going to change my mind, so can't we at least have a friendly goodbye before I leave?"

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh, 'before I leave'," Joshua interjected. "You keep saying that, but I'm tellin' you, you're going _nowhere_. Mom's gonna put her foot down."

Hindel ignored him. "Listen, Dusty. I admire you." He swallowed. He wasn't used to expressing his feelings this openly. "I admire you for deciding to go out into the world and make a difference, to be a hero like Mom and Dad. I'm just trying to do my own thing to make the world a better place."

"What you're doing is going to make the world a worse place," Dusty said firmly.

Hindel stared up into his little brother's eyes for a moment longer, then said, "Okay... Okay, fine," and pushed his way past him out into the hall. He felt stupid for the lump in his throat and the feeling of tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. They were his brothers, and he loved them, but their inability to understand his taking their nation's religion seriously – really, their inability to understand him in _any_ meaningful way – was nothing new. He'd been the black sheep for as long as he could remember. That should not bother him more now. If anything, it should bother him less, since he was leaving, making their attitude towards him no longer relevant. Instead, he felt like the final chapter was closing on a story he had always wanted to write a happy ending to.

His mother was waiting for him in the dining room, seated at the table. His father was there too, but standing at a distance in a way which clearly indicated he was not going to intervene. After all, Hindel had talked to him about leaving first.

"Hi, Mom." He wished she would say something. It was obvious she was going to object to his leaving, but without actual confirmation of that it felt wrong to say anything in his defense. "Hi, Dad. ...Are you guys going to wish me luck?"

His mother gave him a bland look, frightening in how different it was from her usual vibrant self. "Wish you luck with what?"

"My moving to the capital, and my new life as a priest."

"You're not leaving, Hindel."

The straightforward contradiction was aggravating, but he held his head up. "Yes, I am."

His mother shot to her feet, eyes blazing. "Don't you talk back to me!"

It was almost funny. Just a couple weeks ago, an outburst from his mother like this would have left him shame-faced and silent, with a lump in his throat the size of a goose egg. But the knowledge that he was Iom's chosen servant changed everything.

"I'm an adult," he said simply. "I choose my own path through life."

"Yes, but I thought I taught you to choose better than this. I thought I taught you to respect your family."

He set down his knapsack for the moment. "Mom, you and Dad taught me about Iom. You taught me how he is the god of our people. You taught me that I should love my family, and that there are things which are even bigger, more important than my family. You taught me that there are things worth devoting your entire life to. Mom..." He spread his hands wide, and willed the sincerity of his words to reach her. "...with all that you've taught me, what else can I do but what I'm doing now?"

For a long while, his mother stared back at him in silence. She didn't move, and Hindel couldn't guess whether she was trying to read him, or marshaling her next argument, or trying to swallow the fact that she couldn't stop him from leaving. His father had his eyes riveted on her, face etched with concern. He'd seen that look on his face before, that look of fear that she was going to break.

She didn't break, but something in her apparently snapped. Her face fell into her hands and she began to sob. It wasn't the sobbing of defeat; it was pure emotion. "Mom," Hindel said.

"I tried," she sobbed. "I really tried everything I could think of to save you from this. But it wasn't enough... I failed you, and..."

"Mom," he said, and stepped forward to wrap his arms around her. Over her shoulder her saw his father watching them, looking as though he were sorely tempted to intervene. Hindel supposed that he felt it was important for his son to do the comforting in this instance.

"...and now you're going to go and sacrifice people to the same horrible god who tried to kill us all..."

"Mom, stop it." He knew he should be feeling compassion for his mother, maybe even a bit of remorse over leaving, but instead he just felt himself getting angrier and angrier at her for making such a scene, for putting him in this awkward position, and most of all, for insulting Iom. He didn't like feeling angry at his mom, and he managed to keep that feeling out of his voice, but it was there nonetheless. "Just stop it. It's not your fault. I just chose my own life for myself. I didn't really mean that I'm leaving to become a priest because of what you taught me. I'm doing it because of what I've learned for myself. You taught me my morals and ethics, but you can't teach me how to apply them. Okay?"

"Damn it, Hindel. Why are you always so cold and formal? Your brothers and sisters were never like this," she sniffed.

He didn't bother to answer that. Cold? He had more emotion than anyone in this family. He was the only one who sympathized with Iom and his terrible hunger. And he was the only one who loved them all just as they were. Everyone else just ostracized him for his devotion to Iom.

His mother stopped crying. "Oh gods, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I said that. Hindel..." She put a hand on each side of his head and turned his face towards hers. "Hindel, listen. Your father and I, we love you so much. That's why it's so hard to have to lose you to Iom. But whatever happens, you're still our little Hindel."

He blushed and looked away. "I love you too, Mom..."

"You can leave if you really want to. I know you'd do it anyway, but I think you'll feel better if you hear me say that. But, Hindel, you can't leave _now_. You didn't even tell anyone you were leaving until yesterday."

"Mom, I..." Now that he was forced to explain himself to her, he found he didn't have a good logical reason for leaving so suddenly. If Iom had wanted him to leave for the capital immediately, he would have made that known to Hindel. But he would not let that stop him. "...I may not have told you I was leaving before yesterday, but I've been telling you I want to go for years now. I just can't stand waiting around here anymore just because you don't want to let me go. I feel trapped, like I'm going to be stuck here forever if I don't get up and leave. Mom, I have things that I want to do with my life!"

"Just two more days. Just two last days for me to spend with my first little boy. That's all I ask."

"I can't do that, Mom. It would be two days of living hell for me, just counting the seconds until I can leave." He hugged her again. "This won't be the last you'll see of me. I promise."

"Alright," she said, but her voice did not speak acceptance, only surrender. "I can't stop you." She kissed his cheek, as tender as ever, before pulling away. "I love you, Hindel."

"I love you too, Mom," he said, wishing he didn't have to say it, because he still felt angry. He turned to his father. "Dad..."

His father stepped forward, and for a moment Hindel thought – feared – that he was going to hug him. Instead, he just clasped his arm. "You've said goodbye to your brothers and sisters?"

"Yeah," Hindel lied. His brothers and sisters were, well, his brothers and sisters, but he wasn't particularly close to any of them aside from Joshua, and he hated drawn-out goodbyes. They felt like an enforced ritual rather than an expression of sincere emotion.

"Good. You're always welcome back here. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, Dad. Thanks."

He stepped back and picked his knapsack back up. His father's words were sure and comfortable, but there was a look in his eyes that Hindel recognized, a look that said he felt there was something more which he should be saying, but he either didn't know how to say it or didn't know what it was. His mother just looked sad. Hindel turned and left the dining room.

However, he found one last barrier waiting for him at the front door. This one was a little bit higher than his waist and had her mother's long purple hair around a similarly soft face. At nine years old, she was the second youngest of his eight siblings.

"Goodbye, Jacinda," he said simply. "I'll miss you."

She remained stiffly where she was. "Don't go, Hindel," she pleaded. For a moment, Hindel was startled into inaction. He hadn't expected his littlest sister to react like this, and as always, her voice was emotionally stirring.

"Come on, Jacey, _that_ isn't gonna stop him!" a voice called from behind Hindel. "Try kicking him in the shins!"

"Get out of here, Josh!" he snapped over his shoulder.

Joshua emerged from around the corner and leaned his shoulder against the wall. "When exactly did I enlist in an army unit where you're the sergeant? I'm staying."

"Do you want me to take you outside and rub your face in the mud again? Is that it?"

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh, and I'm sure Mom would totally fine with you doing that right before you leave. She's already _this close_ to making you spend the night here, you know. I can tell."

Hindel decided it would be best to just ignore him. "Listen, Jacinda, it's time for me to go off on my own now. Just like Carla did, remember?"

"Why? Why can't you just stay here? What's wrong with your home?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. It's just that there are things I can do in the capital that I can't do here."

But Jacinda had that look of relentless determination in her eyes. "Like what? Do you want to work for the king and queen? Have you got a girlfriend who lives there? What?"

Hindel sighed. "Look, Jacey -"

"Jacinda!"

That caught him off-guard. "What's wrong with Jacey? Joshua and Dusty call you Jacey."

"You're not Josh and Dusty," she said, very deliberately.

"Yeah, you're about ten times less cool than we are," Josh threw in.

"Okay... Jacinda," Hindel said. "I know it's hard for you to understand why, but I want to go and live in the capital, on my own. That's all."

"What do you mean it's hard for me to understand why?! You haven't even explained it!"

"It's just that I want to serve Iom, and I can do more to serve him in the capital, okay? Now how about a goodbye hug?"

Jacinda glared back at him in fury, then opened her mouth to call at the top of her lungs, "Ammmm-berrr! Daaawwwn! Malllllll-colm! Ayyyyyyyy-meeee! Duuuussss-teee! Hindel's leaving!"

It took quite a lot to make more than a third of the household come at a moment's notice, but this was truly a rare bellow from Jacinda. Hindel's heart sank as he heard the stampeding footsteps of his brothers and sisters. Joshua smirked at him.

As they ran into the room, the clatter of footsteps was replaced by a clamor of voices.

"What do you mean, leaving?" Amber demanded.

"He said he's leaving for the capital right now and isn't ever coming back!"

Hindel objected, "I didn't say I wasn't -"

"And when were you going to tell _us_, huh?" Dawn glowered up at him.

"Since when do you -"

"Did you make her cry, Hindel?" Amy said, her eyes sharpening a dagger for him while her comforting arms embraced Jacinda. Whose eyes _did_ seem to be watering just slightly.

"Wha's goin' on?" Malcolm said, looking over each of his siblings with bewilderment.

"Since when do I _what_?" Dawn challenged.

"You don't mean leaving right now as in _leaving_ right now, do you?" Amber asked no one in particular. "I mean, he didn't even say goodbye or anything."

"Hindel, I swear, if you made her cry -"

"I don't want you to go!" Jacinda sniffled.

"Well, Hindel? Since when do I do what?"

Hindel was too overwhelmed by the onslaught of voices to offer any further response to any one of his siblings. For the moment, all he could do was clutch his head with the intense stress.

Then something snapped. "E - nough!" he shouted, shocking every one of his siblings into silence. He had always been the quiet one of the family, and his outburst somewhat surprised him as well. But he did not stop there. "With Carla gone, I'm the oldest. You all need to quiet down and talk in turn. Yes, I'm leaving right this minute. I'm an adult, and it's time. I'm not bothering with -"

"What's going on here?" It was his father, standing with his hands on his hips and a distinctly angry look in his face. It was rare to see their father take the role of disciplinarian, but Hindel recognized his manner. It didn't worry him, though.

He opened his mouth to answer, but Jacinda beat him to the punch. "Hindel's leaving without even saying goodbye!"

Their father looked Jacinda in the eye. "He didn't say goodbye to you at all?" he prodded. Jacinda did have a tendency to embellish and exaggerate.

Hindel, though, wanted to just get this over with. "Dad, there are ten people in this house, and most of them have been just ignoring me for years. What sense does it make to say goodbye to every single one of them, when they don't even care whether I'm here or not?"

"Because it's common courtesy," his father returned. For the first time Hindel could remember, he actually sounded angry. "And because you have no reason not to. Do you?"

He had him there. At this moment, Hindel loathed the very sight of his siblings. They'd surrounded him, ganged up on him, cut him off at the very moment he'd grasped hold of his freedom. All that was minor enough, but it irked him, and it served to remind him of how outraged he was at their wanton disregard for Iom, their god, their reason for being. They were faithless and apathetic, all of them, and if he loved them in spite of that it was only because he couldn't help it, because he was their brother. They didn't deserve his love.

But he couldn't say any of that to his father. Not because he felt that he was still under his parents' authority – he didn't – but because put into words, his sentiments would seem petty. And he didn't want his father to think him petty.

"No, father," Hindel said, with as much dignity as he could manage.

And so he said goodbye to his siblings, one-by-one. It felt like an uncomfortable formality to him, and Jacinda was even more difficult than the others. She kept on begging him not to go, and he really had nothing more to say to her about that. It didn't make any sense, either; Jacinda had always been as indifferent to him as his other siblings.

When it was all finished, he was at last allowed to leave. As he took his last steps off his family property, he felt a great weight lift from his shoulders. His future lay ahead of him now, and it was a bright and glorious one. Iom had promised him that.

* * *

Once Hindel was finished with his goodbyes, Deanna returned to the dining room, where Natasha was still seated. The tears in her eyes were dried now, and she only stared ahead blankly.

"He's left. Natasha... are you okay?"

She did not answer, or even look at him.

"Natasha, say something."

For a moment more she remained silent. Then she took a long, shallow breath and said in a voice sharp with bitterness, "Why did you have to raise him to worship Iom?"

It took Deanna a moment to form an answer. He'd known why Natasha was upset by Hindel's leaving, but he had not expected her to blame him. "...Natasha, I tried to talk him out of becoming a priest. I tried everything. He's too... devoted to this path. I think he'd have grown up to be a priest of Iom whatever we taught him. You know how it is with being a parent... You raise them, teach them, and guide them, but in the end they're their own person." He laid a hand, very lightly, on her shoulder, and gently rubbed it in reassurance. "Hindel's going to be fine. He learned from us to protect the weak, and to think about what's right and what's wrong. He's not going to become like Woldol or Warderer, or Leifo, or any of the people who blindly followed them. Even if he serves Iom, at heart he's still our son."

She still did not look at him. "He's going to kill people for Iom. He's made it clear that's what he wants to do. How is that protecting the weak? How is that choosing right over wrong?" She turned to briefly look at him then, but the look was one of reproach, and stung almost as painfully as the coldness of her tone.

He could not answer. He did have answers for her questions, but they felt insufficient even to him, and would certainly not satisfy her.

A voice cut into the icy silence between them. "Mommy?" It was Malcolm. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, Malcolm." Natasha brought forth a smile. "I'll be all right. Come here."

She held out her arms for him, and he went to her, receiving her embrace. Deanna only stood by in silence.

Natasha held little Malcolm close and kissed the top of his head. "My dear little lad," she said to him softly. "Promise me you won't ever grow up."


	7. Chapter 7: Priestly Robes

\- Chapter 7: Priestly Robes -

There was a gentle knock at the door. Hindel quickly finished his prayer to Iom – he had to admit, it had been little more than rambling about his problems, the sort of thing that would hold not the least bit of interest to his god – and got up off his knees to answer it.

"Are you almost ready?" Alric said, his subdued smile showing through his salt-and-pepper beard.

"I... suppose so. ...Yes, I'm completely ready."

The smile disappeared. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just..." Hindel shrugged. "This is happening so fast. I just got here a little over a week ago, and already they're making me a priest. I thought I'd need to study for months, or even years, to reach this point."

The smile returned, and was more jovial this time. "Seems to me you already had. None of 'em were expecting you to pass the examination on the first try, you know, much less answer every question without even blinking."

"I guess so. But... shouldn't they still be taking more time with me, just to be sure of my devotion? How do they know I'm not entering the priesthood just because I think it'll be an easy way of earning a living?"

Alric shook his head. "I don't think they have much choice, these days. They need every priest they can get, what with so many people having lost their faith in Iom. Myself included, though I never realized it until I met you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Sad though it is to have lost one's faith, I'd rather _know_ that I've lost it than be a slave to a devotion that holds no meaning for me anymore. And I am honored that you would choose me as your sponsor, though to be honest, it seems strange that you'd do so knowing my lack of faith."

"Alric, I..." He looked down in shame, clutching at the arm of his acolyte's robe. "Sometimes I feel like I'm the only person left who really has faith in Iom. All I see is people who say they believe, but don't bother to bring Iom sacrifices, or do it as a routine, with no reverence. They give allegiance to Iom with their tongues, but not their actions."

"Even Nancie?"

He had forgotten her for the moment, and the reminder cheered him. He smiled at his own thoughtlessness. "No, that's true. She has faith. But my sponsor has to be my own gender." He looked up, into Alric's eyes. "Even if you have no faith, at least you're honest about it, and you take it seriously. I think if you came to believe in Iom again, you'd be one of his greatest followers. Once I'm a priest, I'm going to do my best to bring your faith back to life."

Alric smiled. "I'm flattered, but I wouldn't hold out any hope of your success."

"That's okay. You and Nancie have stood by me, and you understand me. Whatever you believe, or don't believe, you'll always be my friends."

"You've honored me again." He glanced back towards the door. "Come on, we should hurry. We've been chatting here so long, you'll be lucky if you don't miss your own initiation."

"I'll be along in just a minute."

Alric nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

It had been Hindel's intention to try one last prayer, then head out to receive the fulfillment of his lifelong aspiration. But as the door closed behind Alric, a familiar figure seemed to pour forth from the room's shadows.

"Uncle Dust?" he said, startled.

"Once again, I am of no relation to you," he answered. "Call me simply Dust."

"Sorry," he said, though it was hard not to think of Dust as family. He'd known him since he was eight, and his mother told him that he'd been protecting their family since before he was born. "What are you doing here?"

"My duty. It is not too late for you to abandon this folly."

Hindel turned his back to Dust, hands solemnly folded across his lap. "I'm pretty sure I told you three days ago. The priesthood is where I'm meant to be. It's my dream. I'm not giving it up."

"I'm not asking you to," Dust returned. "Though I wish you would. I'm only asking that you postpone your initiation for a few days. Give me time to find Brehen and eliminate him as a threat to you."

Hindel frowned. "Why didn't you ask me that before?"

There was a pause before Dust answered. "You must forgive me, master Hindel. Since you refused to give up your service to Iom, I thought I could use your initiation as a trap for Brehen. I did not realize how much of a draw priestly initiations are. I scanned the crowd as best as I could, but there must be hundreds of worshipers here, and Brehen could be anywhere among them. If you go out there, I cannot guarantee that I can stop him in time if he tries to kill you."

"At a public ceremony?" he scoffed. "What makes you think he won't wait for a chance to do it without getting caught?"

"Every instinct I have." Hindel felt Dust's hand on his shoulder. It made him start; Dust normally avoided physical contact of any kind. "Brehen is a desperate man. It would not be the first time he invited capture or death in order to kill you. I would love it if Brehen chose to spend the rest of his life in hiding rather than risk being imprisoned again, but everything I know about murderous madmen tells me that he is waiting only for the moment when you expose your whereabouts. Then he will strike without hesitation."

A suspicion rose in Hindel's mind. "Why? Why would he be so determined to kill someone he's never even met?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

Hindel nodded. "I thought you'd say something like that. So, is "A crazy man's trying to kill you' what my mom and dad told you to tell me, or did you come up with it on your own?"

It took Dust a moment to produce a response. "Master Hindel, you are my old master's nephew and namesake. I would never lie to you."

"Stop talking to me like I'm a naive little kid," he snapped, jerking his shoulder away from Dust's hand. "You'd lie to anyone, even my dad, if you thought it would serve our best interests. Why should I believe that this 'Brehen' even exists?"

"Because not believing is an unnecessary gamble with your own life."

"No," Hindel said, a pool of faith rising to its high tide within him. "It's not. Even if there is a madman after my life, I'm not afraid of him. Iom himself chose me to be his messenger in this world. He won't allow me to die, not before I've had a chance to do his will."

From the shadows of his mask, Dust's eyes scrutinized the young man he had charged himself with protecting, as though in assessment of how well he could deliver that protection. "I strongly advise you not to put so much faith in Iom, Master Hindel. He will leave you with nothing in the end."

"...You're talking about how King Warderer died after sacrificing my uncle to Iom, aren't you?"

"Not just that. To escape from poverty, my father sacrificed my siblings to Iom, and tried to do the same to me. It gained him nothing but a few coins."

"That's different. King Warderer and your father were just trying to bribe Iom, expecting him to give them something in return. All I expect from Iom is to keep me alive long enough to do his will."

"I see." Dust paused a second. "Your faith is commendable, master Hindel." The words were, surprisingly enough, sincere. Everything Dust said tended to be either laced with an invisible sneer or formed of cold professionalism, but this was neither. For a moment, Hindel thought that he might have actually converted Dust to Iom. But then he resumed, "However, you should consider whether it might not be misplaced. You understand that what King Warderer did was wrong. Ask yourself this: Even if Iom himself is good, should you worship him when he consistently inspires such evil?" He gave a bow, which Hindel could not be sure was sincere or facetious. "Farewell."

Hindel blinked, and Dust was gone.

He considered Dust's parting words, but only briefly. After all, Iom needed people to worship him, to bring him sacrifice. To withhold that from him because of what other people did in his name was to blame him for their actions, and that was wrong, just as it would have been wrong for people to blame King Amelo for his father's actions.

There was another knock on the door, a bit fiercer this time, and it was accompanied by the muffled sound of Nancie's voice. "Hindel, are you coming?"

He looked down once more at his acolyte's robes. He wished that he could have worn them a bit longer. It just didn't seem right to jump so quickly to the priesthood.

He went and opened the door. Nancie was there, and as always, her face brought him back to the solid assurance of his faith. "I'm sorry, but everyone is getting a little tired of waiting for you," she said, clearly trying to put it gently and not succeeding. "If you're not ready, you should just tell them to cancel the ceremony. They won't be happy, but you shouldn't take on those priestly robes until you're absolutely sure you want them."

"It's okay," he assured her. "I'm ready. It just took longer than I thought it would."

* * *

It was indeed an impressive audience gathered at the ceremony. The first explanation that came into Hindel's head was that it was Iom's plan for his initiation to be witnessed by as many as possible, but he discounted that as lazy reasoning. Iom could not simply summon a crowd of worshipers out of thin air. Perhaps it was because, as Alric had remarked, priestly initiations were so rare these days. Young priests, especially; most of Iom's followers were die-hard loyalists who'd come of age in the time before King Warderer. It probably helped that the high priest was performing the service, though he did so for most initiations held in the capital.

It seemed the high priest had been waiting for him, because he began the invocation as soon as he and Nancie entered the room. "People of Iom, we are gathered here today to bear witness to one of our own taking on the hallowed robes of service to our god. As he accepts this special burden, let us..."

The service did not yet include his involvement, but even so, Hindel's nerves were alight with excited nervousness. After the invocation was finished, they were seated for the reading of a passage from the words of Jerozum, Iom's first prophet. He felt Nancie's hand lightly touch his. "It feels like I'm always asking you this, but... are you okay?"

"Yes," he answered, in the quietest voice he could manage. "Just nervous."

"I didn't mean that. You keep running your eyes over the crowd, like you're looking for someone." Hindel didn't know what to say to that. After a moment of silence, she ventured, "Your family, maybe?"

He nodded. "I guess so. I hadn't really realized I was..." He sighed. "It's silly. I've never wanted them to attend this ceremony... it wouldn't even mean anything to any of them, except for my dad. I guess I just was hoping one of them would show up so that I'd know they've forgiven me for how cold I was to them when I left home."

"I thought you said that your family has never respected your devotion to Iom, or even tried to understand it. That your brothers and sisters pushed you away because of it." He looked away in painful memory, thus providing silent affirmation. "Forgive me, and I know it's really none of my concern, but aren't you better off without a family like that?"

"I..." It was strange, but the way Nancie phrased it actually made the prospect of being estranged from his family seem much more terrible. "In my head, I know I'm better off. But in my heart..." He shook his head. "No, in my heart I know I'm better off, too. But I still love them. I should have left them in a way that showed that I love them, that... put the right closure on things." He felt a bit embarrassed at his emotionalism, so he tried putting it in a more priestly way, "Even if I have to leave them behind, my family is still important. Iom chose me to be his servant, and that means he chose my family, because when you're first conceived, what are you besides your parents' child and your sister's brother?"

Nancie nodded. "I understand." The reading of Jerozum's words came to an end, so they ceased their conversation. The reading had been one Hindel was well familiar with, and he assumed Nancie was as well, so they missed nothing by conversing through it. Even so, it was irreverent to talk during a religious service, so there was absolutely no question of talking during the more sacred rites.

The high priest proceeded with the blessing of Hindel's new priestly robes. When that was done, he intoned, "Hindel, son of Deanna, come forward."

His heart felt as if it were swollen near the base of his throat as he stepped onto the altar. The high priest looked upon him with wrinkled eyes that were patient, grandfatherly. His age was reflected in his white wisps of hair, withered skin, and varicose veins. "Hindel, you have been informed of the great responsibility that comes with the priesthood. Are you prepared to accept it?"

"I am," he answered. They were prescribed words, but he put all his religious desire into them.

The high priest turned to Alric, who stood one pace behind Hindel. "And do you, Alric, sponsor for Hindel, vouch for his sincerity and piety?"

"I do," Alric answered.

He returned his gaze to Hindel. "You are son of the famous Deanna and Natasha, outspoken advocates against some of the practices priests of Iom must observe. Are you certain you are willing to revoke your upbringing?"

_That's it,_ Hindel suddenly realized. _That's why such a large crowd for a religious service. I'm not just an exceptionally young candidate for the priesthood; I'm the son of two of the religion's most famous opponents. People see this as an unexpected victory for Iom... almost a miracle._

Of course, his parents had in fact raised him to believe in and revere Iom; it was only human sacrifice that they were really against. But giving the congregation a long clarification was not appropriate, so he answered, "If it is necessary for me to devote myself to Iom, then I am willing to revoke it."

"Then remove your old vestments."

As instructed, Hindel took off his acolyte's robes, handing them over to one of the two acolytes assisting in the service. Underneath he wore only a white loincloth and a white sackcloth shirt. The threadbare state of his clothing symbolized his offering of his entire self to Iom's service, and emphasized the transition from the robes of an acolyte to those of a priest.

"Bow down to our god," the priest continued.

Hindel faced the statue of Iom which stood at the back of the altar, and knelt down before it. As always, the image of Iom filled him with peace and contentment: the feathery, sheltering wings; the strong, protective hands; the wise, authoritative face. He longed to one day see Iom in the flesh.

"Confess your love for Iom."

At this point in the service, there was no one prescribed response. Hindel recited the chant he had chosen, "Iom save us. Iom protect us. We live to your endless glory. We die to join your being. We are your people forever."

The high priest came to stand before Hindel and placed his hands on his head. "I bestow upon you the authority guide the people of Iom, to carry out Iom's sacred services, and to deliver sentient lives to his essence." One of the acolytes handed a glass vial of oil to the high priest, and he used it to anoint Hindel's head. "You may now rise and put on your new vestments."

He was almost trembling now. He'd done it... at last. His love for Iom was officially affirmed. He had the authority to perform human sacrifices, that most wondrous giving of all one had to Iom. Controlling his emotion, he accepted the priestly robes handed to him by one of the acolytes and put them on. He then turned to face the congregation.

"I now pronounce you a priest of Iom," the high priest said. "All the faithful gathered here, behold your newest advocate to our god!"

The congregation did not hesitate to applaud the new priest. Hindel blushed slightly, but Alric's supportive hand on his shoulder gave him strength. It reminded him that he was no longer just the odd one out in a family of unbelievers. He now had friends, people who respected his beliefs. He had a role in things, a chance to make a positive difference in the world.

A voice cried out from the congregation, "You mean, behold the latest shill in your centuries-old scam!"

A man leapt from the crowd onto the altar, making Hindel involuntarily take a step back. Part of it was his shocking disrespect for a holy place of worship, and part of it was simply the man's stature; he seemed to stand seven feet tall, with shoulders nearly as broad.

The high priest spoke up, "Young man, you will remove yourself from the altar, or -"

"Shut it, you fraud." The high priest recoiled in shock, and the man turned to address the congregation. "You see? I insult the high priest himself, and has Iom struck me down? No. Because Iom is a fiction, created by these tricksters in robes so that they can demand your money and service."

"That's enough," Hindel said, anger giving him courage. He stepped forward, planted a hand on the blasphemer's shoulder, and attempted to pull him off of the altar.

The man shrugged him off. "It'll be enough when the full truth has been told to these people."

"You're causing a disturbance and blaspheming our god in his holy place," Hindel said evenly, his righteous fury like a keen edge. "If you don't come off the altar now, we'll have the guards remove you."

"So you admit that your god can't hold up to scrutiny? That you need to immediately silence anyone who questions him?" He said this loud enough for the congregation to hear.

Hindel grit his teeth, then answered, "There is a place for religious debate, and a holy shrine is not one of them."

"Why? Isn't this where Iom's power is supposed to be at its strongest?"

Arguing with this man was worse than pointless, Hindel knew. Doing so gave his arguments – and worse, his behavior – a respect that they did not merit. Any reasonable person would have used a public forum; there was no need to desecrate a place of worship and insult the people who went there. The right thing to do would be to simply have him removed.

But Hindel also realized that with things in Iom the way they were now, that would be even worse than arguing with him. The people in the congregation were not outraged at the disturbance; they were listening. They did not necessarily believe what he said, but they were listening. As the man said, having him thrown out would only give the impression that they could not refute his claims.

He glanced at the high priest for guidance. After all, he was the authority here. But the high priest was still just staring at the intruder and trembling. He was too frail to deal with something like this. Hindel was burning with silent outrage at the violation of his god's holy place, and the unprovoked abuse of an elderly person increased that outrage. His parents had always ingrained in him the importance of protecting those too weak to defend themselves.

The intruder was again addressing the congregation. "I ask you this: Has any one of you even seen Iom with your own eyes?"

"Why don't you ask them if they've ever seen the queen of Guardiana with their own eyes?" Hindel returned, matching his opponent's volume so that the entire audience could hear. "Perhaps that way we can determine whether or not she exists."

A subtle twitch in the man's eye showed that this argument had caught him off-guard, much to Hindel's satisfaction. But after only a second's hesitation, the confidence returned to his eyes. "The queen of Guardiana has no business with us. We should not expect to see her whether or not she exists. It is Iom who is supposed to be our god. The queen of Guardiana looks after her people. Where do you see our god looking after us?"

"Iom is our protector, not our nursemaid. We can't expect just expect him to solve all our problems for us! When he chose us as his people, he meant us for something better than that. We have to stand up for ourselves, and call upon Iom when we really need him. We..."

He trailed off. It was the same question Alric had brought to him, and he was answering in the same way. And again, they were the right words, but they were still just words. The congregation was looking at him and listening to him, but nothing he said, or could say, was moving them. They were lost, their faith at an ebb, overcome by the feeling that their god had abandoned them, or worse, had never existed to begin with. Mere words could not reassure them.

"When we really need him?" the man said. "When has Iom ever been there for us, whether we really need him or no? But you are right, young priest: We have to stand up for ourselves. It's time we stopped relying on a god who doesn't exist. It's time we let go of our childhood fairy tales."

This has to end. He'd done his best, but it was useless; he could not make people believe in Iom with just words. All he could do was put a stop to this man's blaspheming in Iom's holy shrine. Steeling himself, he stepped forward to remove him from the altar. As he did so, he stepped upon the section of the altar which concealed the repository. The repository was a small storage room built beneath the main altar in every major shrine to Iom. It was used to store an assortment of sacred oils, special garbs, and various other items needed to properly welcome Iom in the event that he was revived at the altar. Hindel knew the repository was there, but gave it no thought, especially since Iom had first spoken to him. If there were any chance of Iom being revived in the near future, his god would have told him.

The trapdoor opening up the repository sprang open, completely knocking Hindel off his feet. Even as he fell to the altar floor, sharp pain slamming into his spine, a man with madness blazing in his eyes fell upon him, a long dagger clutched in his hands and aimed at his heart.


	8. Chapter 8: The Transfiguration

\- Chapter 8: The Transfiguration -

Dust was not a great believer in serendipity. He'd had a reasonably long life by now, most of which had been focused on his work, and all the luck he'd ever found could be credited to his own skill and planning.

Thus, when he spotted someone else sneaking about the shrine's rafters, he was not quick to assume he'd stumbled upon a new matter of interest. Most likely, he decided, this was an assassin that Brehen had managed to enlist.

Watching her move about, Dust concluded that her talent for stealth was formidable. She almost certainly would have completely avoided detection if she had not happened to be in the same chamber as a man who had made stealth a lifelong pursuit. He smiled. He could show the assassin just how outclassed she was right now, but it would be better to observe a little bit and learn for certain what her intentions were; he did not believe in assuming that she was here to kill Hindel any more than he believed in assuming that her presence here was coincidental.

He was not overly concerned for Hindel's safety for the moment. If the assassin should make a sudden attack, he was positioned to leap in and stop her. There was some rabble-rouser up on the altar, but though Hindel seemed intimidated by him, it was clear to Dust that he had no intention of harming anyone. His entire presentation seemed too prepared; Dust had no doubt that he'd come here just to deliver this speech. So he just enjoyed listening to the man tear apart Hindel's misguided faith while he kept his eyes fixated on the assassin. _How strange to think... The congregation might have one or two fools like my father, having their minds changed right now. If this is an organized movement, this same scene might be going on in shrine__s__ all over the country._

His mind was occupied with these thoughts, so although he heard the trapdoor to the repository open up, he did not immediately realize the significance. By the time his gaze shot down to the altar, Brehen had already buried his dagger in Hindel's heart.

* * *

Hindel stared down at the weapon piercing his chest in shock. Blood was pouring out all over the hilt. His lungs felt tight, strained. Already he could feel his strength deserting him.

"Why?" he croaked, looking up into Brehen's face, to see the madman looked nearly as shocked as he was.

"I'm sorry," Brehen said softly, and he sounded as though he actually meant it. "You didn't deserve this."

He released his hold on the dagger's handle and got to his feet. "But if you knew what was in store for you," he continued, "...I think you would actually thank me for ending your life now. You've had nearly 20 years of life, and you die still innocent. Your long nightmare is over, before it even begins." He raised his eyes to the heavens. "And for me... After 20 years, _my_ long nightmare has finally ended. Thank whatever gods there may be... it has _finally_ ended!"

As Brehen was ranting, Hindel noticed a figure in his peripheral vision. He turned and saw Nancie gingerly stepping towards him. He remembered, then, that in one of their conversations she had mentioned that she knew some basic healing magic. She was going to try to heal his wound... and when she did, Brehen would...

"Stay back!" he cried, reaching out a hand to ward her off, though he found he barely had the strength to do so. Simply lifting his head off the floor was an effort.

To his relief, Nancie hesitated a brief moment but then did as he commanded, retreating back to the edge of the altar. A waiting Alric took hold of her to prevent any more impulsive moves.

_Damn it, where is Dust? If he would just take Brehen out, then Nancie could..._ He shut off that stray thought. He knew the truth, and denial would do him no good. Such a direct wound to the heart was probably beyond even the most powerful healer's ability to undo, and Nancie was far from the most powerful healer. That was probably why Dust was still in hiding; there was no sense in exposing himself in an attempt to save someone who was already as good as dead.

He felt the tears welling in his eyes. This was too cruel. To be taken away from his friends now. To never be able to reconcile with his family after the bitter way they'd parted. He'd had life, his destiny, right within his grasp... How could he be dying now, when he'd been chosen by Iom before his birth? What sense did it make for his potential to be shattered right before it could take shape?

Hindel squeezed his eyes shut, cutting off his tears. The blade in his chest felt cold, and he was afraid. Not just for himself, though death was a greater terror than he had ever imagined. He was afraid for his parents, for the grief they'd feel at his death. He was afraid for Joshua and Alric, his promise to bring them faith in Iom unfulfilled. He was even afraid for Dust, for how he might feel at having failed to protect him. And he was afraid for his religion, afraid that once he was gone there might be no one left who truly believed in their god and his power.

_Iom... How? How could your plan for me go so wrong, to end like this?_

He did not really expect an answer. It surprised him, then, when he heard Iom's voice. It was a firm reprimand against his lack of faith, and a general complaint of sorts at the lack of faith in all living beings. Iom would not allow his chosen servant to die in this manner, his god told him. He was letting himself die, by not calling upon Iom's power.

_I don't understand... I've never called upon your power before. How do -_

Then he felt it. It began in his chest. Something about him _changed_. His lungs started pumping faster than they ever had before, not out of excitement, but out of sheer energy. His heart felt tougher, thicker.

He reached up to grasp the hilt of the dagger and begin pulling it out. As he did, he felt the wound in his heart close over and start to heal. Life was back within his grasp.

Hindel did not know what the change coming over his insides was. Iom was explaining it to him, but even with the thread still binding him to his god, he could not understand the complex notions involved. He did not know what the change was, but it felt good. Not just physically; he could feel himself growing somehow closer to Iom as the change occurred. So he willed it to spread further, feeling it out and pushing it to extend out along his veins.

"What?" Brehen had been caught up in his apparent triumph, but he now noticed his victim pulling the dagger out of his heart. "That... that can't... Stop!" He again leapt on Hindel and took hold of the dagger, pushing it back in.

Seeing their chance, Alric sprang to Hindel's aid, grabbing hold of Brehen's wrists from behind. But though Brehen was one old man against two younger ones, his fanatical conviction gave him strength; the two sides were even.

"Die! Die!" Brehen screeched, the dagger suspended with its blade half inside Hindel's chest, half out. "Can't you see? This is the only chance left! For all our sakes, he's got to die!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Hindel could see Nancie steeling herself to step in and help. But there was no need. As the three of them were struggling, the change spread up to the surface of Hindel's skin, so that it was skin no longer. Before his eyes, Hindel's chest turned into a dark-colored chitinous material, so rigid and tough that it shattered the end of the dagger.

"No!" Brehen cried, his expression turning from desperation to abject horror. Nancie and Alric stared at Hindel's metamorphosing body in shock. His body was expanding as well as hardening, enough so that his new robes and the white sackcloth shirt underneath were split apart, exposing the change to everyone in the room.

That did not draw Hindel's concern, however. All that mattered to him was that the threat was gone. He was safe. Just as important, his friends were safe.

With that assured, fear was replaced by anger. Hindel tossed the broken dagger aside and seized Brehen by the collar of his tunic. He got to his feet, lifting Brehen off the altar with barely a thought. "You tried to kill me!"

"Gods," Brehen gasped. "I never considered... You've already joined yourself to Iom. I should have killed you years before. Now it's too late to save them..."

Hindel's jaw clenched. "My parents told me how they fought people like you: bloodthirsty monsters who kill without remorse, who try to justify murder for their own ends. Until now, I couldn't really believe people like you existed. I thought Warderer, Barbara, Wallor, and all the others they told me about couldn't be quite as bad as they made them out to be." The change was still spreading, now proceeding up Hindel's arm to cover it in the same murky chitinous shell whilst splitting his sleeves open. "Now I just thank Iom that there are also people like my brother Dusty, people who make it their responsibility to stop monsters like you."

"You don't understand," Brehen said. "I've seen the future."

"No one's seen the future! The future doesn't exist yet!" His fingers, now transformed into sharp talons, dug into Brehen's chest, making him gasp. Hindel took a few breaths to get his temper under control. "The future is built on our choices. You chose to kill people. I've chosen to help people, the way Iom and my parents taught me to. And I'm starting by helping my brother Dusty... by giving him one less monster to worry about." He threw Brehen aside; the mad prophet landed like a sack of potatoes, and did not rise again.

The miraculous change was still spreading. His legs too had become armored murky things, and he could feel some sort of growths sprouting on his back. As he felt the change trickling up his neck, sudden panic came over him. _What'll happen once I've completely changed? What if I can't change back? If my head is changed, won't that affect my mind?_

Iom was still speaking to him, and the tone was one of reassurance, but the change was spreading too quickly for Hindel to think things over. He instinctively willed the change to stop right where it was. To his relief, it obeyed, stopping just short of his jaw. His still human head was grafted upon a monstrously powerful body.

Hindel then turned to the man who had been lecturing the congregation on the falseness of Iom. He was still standing there, astounded by Hindel's transformation. Probably too frightened to make a move.

"A minute ago you asked where we could see Iom looking out for us," Hindel said. "Does this satisfy you? I called upon Iom, and he saved me. Not because he loves me any more than the rest of his people, but because the time for him to step in and protect his people has come again, and I am his chosen vessel to accomplish that." He was now addressing the entire congregation. "Iom only sends out his power when we truly need it... but he is _always_ there for us. No matter how hard it gets, we must never forget that!"

The people of the congregation were looking fixedly upon him, with fear at first, for the sight of his transformed body was shocking, but ultimately with new faith. Once again, Hindel had spoken the right words, but this time they were not just words; there was power behind them. They saw in his transformation the direct manifestation of Iom's power, and they believed.

"At best," the unbeliever spoke up, having at last found his voice, "...you've proven only that Iom is there for his priests. Why should we continue to serve you in his name, when his gifts are given only to the elite?"

Hindel stormed towards the man. "Our god has endured your desecration of his altar long enough. As the high priest was saying to you before, you will remove yourself from this altar, or I will -"

But that sentence was interrupted by a woman's cry coming from the rafters. Hindel looked up and saw Dust and another figure draped in black, locked together in hand-to-hand combat, tumbling from the ceiling. It looked as though Dust was going to be on top when they landed, which from that height would mean serious injury for the woman, but as they fell she cried out, "Egress!"

With that, the woman in black vanished, and with her the man who had been blaspheming. Dust took the fall rougher than he probably would have if he hadn't been caught off-guard by the Egress spell, but he managed to roll with the landing and disappear into the crowd.

Hindel looked around a moment, incidentally noticing that the two growths he'd felt sprouting on his back were a pair of bat-like wings, but there was no sign of either of the intruders. _Iom... What is going on here?_

Iom was not certain. However, it was clear to him that the two intruders were scouts or forerunners of the threat he had chosen Hindel to combat. The man's preaching clearly identified their cause.

_How can that barrage of blasphemy be a__ cause? I don__'t understand. This is the first time you've told me anything about the task you chose me to do._

Iom acknowledged that this was the first he'd told him any of this. He had hoped to take more time to prepare Hindel for his task, but chance had now dictated that he get involved sooner.

"Hindel," Alric's voice broke in, "I think we'd better get you out of here. The crowd is still a little afraid now, but once they get past that, they'll be all over you. Come on."

Hindel didn't quite understand what Alric meant, but he knew so little about what had just happened – Brehen's wanting to kill him, his transformation, the two people desecrating Iom's shrine in two totally different ways yet apparently in collaboration – that right now it felt best to just trust somebody else for a little while. He let Alric take his right arm and guide him back off the altar while Nancie followed along on his left. She looked as though she desperately wanted to say something to him, but didn't want to bother him after all the confusing things he'd just gone through. Such consideration was characteristic of her.

And yet, though Hindel wouldn't claim to understand much of what had just happened, he hardly felt confused. In a way, everything was clearer now then ever. Deep down, he had felt some doubts about whether he could live up to Iom's expectations of him. He still didn't know exactly what those expectations were, but he knew know that he could live up to whatever they were. He had proved that he had the courage to speak up to people, and the ability to move them with his words. The only thing he'd been missing, all this time, was the power of Iom behind him. Now he had that as well.

As they reached the rear exit to the shrine, Hindel said, "Wait. Someone should look after Bre- Um, the man who tried to kill me, to make sure he doesn't recover and get away before the guards arrive."

Alric gave him a curious look. "Hindel, the man who tried to kill you is dead."

Hindel stared. "What? He's... dead?"

"I thought you knew. You said something about giving your brother one less villain to worry about."

Hindel put a hand to his chest. Suddenly, even with his transformed lungs, he couldn't breathe. "You mean... I killed him?"

"No doubt about it. I checked 'im and he wasn't breathing. Looks like your claws pierced a major vein."

"No... I couldn't have..." But he lifted up his other hand and found that it was covered with Brehen's blood. In his anger at the mad prophet, he hadn't even noticed.

"Don't worry about it. It was self-defense."

"No it wasn't!" Hindel snapped. He clutched his hand tight over his new heart. "He was beaten... helpless. There was no need to... I could have..."

"Easy," Alric said, putting a hand around Hindel's shoulders. Hindel's new form was so much taller, he almost had to go on tiptoe to do so. "Easy. You've had a big day. Let's just get you back to my place, and you can get some rest."

"I... all right. Thanks." And he meant it. Much as he loved the room that he had been assigned at the shrine, he didn't want to be in the shrine right now. He'd done little to earn Alric's friendship, and that made the gesture of itself all the more appreciated. But at the same time, the knowledge that he'd killed a man kept beating through his head.

"One thing. Do you know if you can change your body back?" Alric asked.

Hindel waited a moment, listening to Iom's voice. "Iom says I can. And return to this form at any time, if I like."

"Iom speaks to you?" As soon as he'd said it, Alric chuckled at himself. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that, at this point. Anyway, don't change back just yet; the clothes you had on are pretty much completely destroyed."

Hindel nodded, but he barely heard this last bit of advice. He ran Alric's previous words over in his head. "Iom speaks to you? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that, at this point." Alric would never joke about religious matters, especially not to him. Yet his tone was too light and easy to be coming from a man who could not believe that Iom might speak to someone words that could make a difference. Hindel could see only one possible interpretation.

Alric believed again. He had witnessed Iom's power manifesting in Hindel, and he believed.

Hindel knew, then, that the great destiny planned for him by Iom had begun.


	9. Chapter 9: The Disciple

\- Chapter 9: The Disciple -

"You stupid witch!" he screamed, slamming her up against the wall. "What did you do?!"

Autumn regarded her companion with relative calm. Though her heart was fairly pounding, this was not the first outburst she'd witnessed from him. "That should be clear. I got us both out of there."

"With magic!"

"How else?" she inquired.

"You shouldn't have taken us out at all! The situation was under control!"

"Me falling from the rafters with an unidentified assailant on top of me, and you about to be ripped into pieces by an Iomite priest transforming into a monster? That is not my idea of under control."

"Dealing with unexpected enemies was part of your job. If you couldn't handle that, the way I was prepared to handle that monster if need be, then you deserve to die. And even if the situation _were_ out of control, that's no reason to resort to using magic, especially not in front of the very people we're trying to guide away from that sort of thing!"

She sighed. "We've discussed this, Marcus. You're entitled to your opinion, but I see no connection between magic and religion, and our leaders are plainly inclined to agree with me."

"You think the cultists in this country are going to appreciate the difference, if there is one? You saw how they reacted to that priest's transformation trick. What will they think if we're telling them that the gods are fictions, but we use the same sort of flash?"

There was a snort of soft derision, and the two of them turned to see Silas, their commander. Marcus immediately let go of Autumn, who landed neatly on her feet. She rubbed at the back of her neck. It felt sore.

"Use your head, Marcus," the commander said. "If they realize that people who reject the gods can use the same sort of power as those who serve the gods, they'll stop seeing that power as a divine sign. It will be just one more illusionist's trick that anyone can use. Now," - he took a chair and seated himself - "...I gather that things didn't go as we hoped. Give me your report."

* * *

"Wait."

They were at Alric's front door. At the sound of Nancie's gentle voice, both Hindel and Alric turned around. She lowered her eyes rather than meet their gaze, and fidgeted with her skirt.

"Hindel, could I talk to you... for just a minute?"

In spite of himself, Hindel felt his heart skip a beat at the simple request. He looked back at Alric.

Alric looked around thoughtfully. "The sun's going down, but you're still liable to be seen if you linger out here. You'd better go on inside; I'll take a little walk."

"Thanks, Alric."

"A _little_ one," he repeated for emphasis, and turned to walk down the street.

The two of them went inside, Hindel bending down slightly to fit through the doorway. Nancie closed the door behind them.

"Hindel," she said, not wasting any time now that they were alone. "About the man you killed... You did the right thing."

"Don't say that."

"No, listen. You're just thinking about it from your perspective, about how he tried to kill you, and I understand that, but there's more to it. He desecrated the shrine, Hindel," she said, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper, as though there were children around who might have nightmares if they heard of Brehen's deeds. "Coming into a shrine with an intent to murder is a sacrilege, especially with you being a priest. Men like that should be killed, in Iom's name, just as you did. It's really no different from when you sacrifice someone to Iom, and now that you're a priest you'll be doing that one day, too."

"'No different'?" Hindel exploded. "It's completely different! When someone is sacrificed to Iom, their essence becomes a part of him. It nourishes him, adds to his power, and gives the person's life a new home with him. By killing Brehen, I took that precious gift of life and just wiped it out, wasted it! Can't you understand what a horrible thing that is?"

Nancie's eyes lowered to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't really mean that they were no different, just that... You do them both for the good of Iom."

"That's another thing." She looked so ashamed that Hindel felt bad for having raised his voice to her. But he had to go on, though he did ease up on his tone. "I always thought that when I became a priest, it would be _me_ performing the sacrifices. But when I saw my first human sacrifice, on the day I met you, I realized that the priest is just an instrument. The real sacrifice is being performed by the person who's giving up their life. They die to be born again in Iom, earning glory for both our god and themselves. The priest just makes sure that it's done right."

She looked back up at him, and her for a moment her breath was stilled. "That's... beautiful. So people sacrificed to Iom really do become a part of him? I mean, since Iom speaks to you..."

"Yes, they do." His brow furrowed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She blushed and looked down again. "I'm sorry, it's just... your wings."

"They're just wings," he said, still puzzled. He could understand if Nancie was repulsed by them, but the looks she was giving him were not ones of disgust. They were more like... adoration.

"Really? I thought... Well, you know... Iom has wings."

Hindel stared, her meaning slowly breaking through to him. "But Iom's wings are feathery, angelic. Mine are leathery, like a bat's." It was a halfhearted response, one which did not reflect his own beliefs about Iom's appearance, but he was not comfortable with the direction Nancie was going in.

"But that's just the artists' depiction, isn't it? I mean, Iom is our protector, and angelic wings convey that idea better. If Iom has wings like those, it still makes sense that they wouldn't paint or sculpt them that way."

"That's true, but..." He decided to put it directly. "You're not saying I'm some sort of incarnation of Iom himself, are you?"

"Oh, no!" She put a hand to her throat. "No, never! You don't really think I'd suggest something so blasphemous?"

"It wouldn't be blasphemous if it were true," he said, though the idea still unnerved him as well. "I'm just trying to understand what it is you _are_ suggesting."

"Isn't it obvious? Hindel, a tiny handful of people in history have been able to call on Iom's power to make them transform like that. People like high priest Leifo, and Woldol, and Valor. But no one has ever transformed into Iom's own image. To have done that... It can only mean you have a very special bond with Iom. This makes Iom talking to you seem minor by comparison."

That was true. Assuming, of course, that this was what Iom looked like. He looked down at himself. The question was on his lips, and he knew that if he asked it, Iom himself would answer. But part of him didn't want to know, felt that Iom's appearance should remain a mystery. Moreover, the notion that he was wearing Iom's image seemed to reduce his god somehow. Illogical, since it was by the power of Iom himself that he looked this way, but there it was.

There was a knock at the door, and Alric stepped inside without waiting for an answer. "I'm back." There was no immediate response, as they both found it hard to pull back from what they'd just been discussing. "Mmm. Nancie, if you'd like to stay here too, I think I can work that out."

"Oh, no. No, thank you, but I had better be getting home. I'll try to come by sometime tomorrow." She turned and left, her head bowed in a solemn and pleasing manner.

After Nancie closed the door behind her, Alric watched Hindel for a moment. "You fancy her, don't you?" he said.

"What? I..." Once his attention had fully returned to his host, Hindel blushed slightly at the question. "I don't think this is the right time to think of such things."

"Mmm. So you haven't known her long enough to know one way or the other." He shrugged. "We'll leave it at that, then. Why don't you pull out some spare clothes from the closet in that room over there and change back to your normal body, and I'll make us something to eat." As he took out a pot and set it on the stove, however, he suddenly added, "A bit of advice, though. Don't take too much time figuring out which way your heart is pointing. Life's too short for that."

It took Hindel a minute of concentration to figure out how to make the change go in reverse, but once he did, it proved to be as easy as making it go forward. He watched as the dark chitinous armor his body had become change back to soft human flesh with hardly any effort at all. The only discomfort he felt was the unexpected disappointment at how feeble and delicate his human body was by comparison. It felt as though simply tripping and falling could snap all his bones.

Even this feeling he embraced, however, for it gave him a better understanding of his god. _How hard it must be for Iom to feel concern for creatures that he could crush as easily as we crush a bug. If it weren't for the fact that he needs our sacrifices to feed his hunger, I can't imagine him bothering with us at all. It's strange to even think of us having that same sort of relationship with lesser creatures._

The thought filled him with a deep calm, a sort of contentment with his faith. As he dressed himself, he repeated to himself his favorite chant, "Iom save us. Iom protect us. We live to your endless glory. We die to join your being. We are your people forever."

To his surprise, Alric's clothes fit him almost perfectly. Once finished dressing, he sat himself at the kitchen table. Alric served them a simple soup, which they ate mostly in silence. Hindel still didn't feel ready to discuss everything that had happened at his ordination, and as with his father, he and Alric were not uncomfortable with long silences. He did, however, ask Alric what had made him think that he was romantically interested in Nancie.

"A lot of little things," Alric answered. "The biggest one, though, was the way you were looking at her as she left just now."

Once they were done, Alric showed Hindel to his room. It was the same room where he'd gotten his clothes. Something clicked in Hindel's head.

"Alric... You have a wife and son, don't you?"

His friend smiled. "Had. Yes." Hindel went silent at that, but Alric, perhaps sensing the question on his mind, continued after a few moments, "The wife enlisted in the army shortly after our only child was weaned, and died in the war with Cypress. Our Timothy contracted an illness five years ago. Died at sixteen years old."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Even the gods can't ensure that everything ends happily for everyone. I should have realized sooner that having Timothy at all was a gift from Iom."

Compulsively, Hindel confessed, "My parents were in the Cypress army during the war."

"Ah, yes. Sir Hindel and Lady Natasha." Hindel nodded. Running his hand over his salt-and-pepper beard, Alric mused, "Isn't that something? Your parents helped restore the people's government and standards of living, and now you are helping restore their faith."

"What I actually meant was... It could have been one of my parents who killed your wife..."

"They were fighting for what they believe is right, just as my wife was. There's no shame in that." He smiled. "Now get some sleep. Tomorrow is bound to be a big day."

Hindel nodded, and sat down on the bed to undress himself. As his host was about to leave the room, however, he said, "Alric, I... I never thanked you for earlier."

"Earlier?"

"When you tried to help me against Brehen, you know, tried to pull him off me. And before, you kept Nancie out of danger." He gave Alric a look of solemn gratitude. "Thank you for that."

"It was my pleasure. Honestly, Hindel," he said as he began to close the door, "...I can't remember the last time I felt as alive as I did then."

* * *

When they'd finished recounting what happened, Autumn leaned back and commented, "This just reinforces what I said from the beginning: we're wasting our time here. You can't convert a nation whose entire foundation is based on one religion. We should just conquer them, or better yet, get the other nations in this region to conquer them. There's already plenty of bad blood against Iom."

Marcus growled, "So _that's_ why you forced us to bail out early."

She gave him a withering look. "Don't you dare accuse me. I do my duty, regardless of my personal opinions."

"Yes, you've already proven that," Silas nodded. "But you've overlooked the reason for your failure, Autumn. The people of Iom are not a lost cause. The problem is that young priest. Whatever power it is he wields, he can use it to convince the people that their god truly protects them. If we neutralize him, the people's misguided faith will continue to crumble, as the reports I've seen tell me has been happening for many years."

"If that is your order," Autumn bowed her head, "...then I will gladly handle the task of killing him in his sleep."

The commander shook his head. "Too risky. What if his power allows him to survive death itself? Then we'd only be providing further evidence of Iom's protection. Besides, it would be better to discredit his power in public view." He leaned back against the wall. "And I think what Marcus said earlier has given me a good idea of how to do that."


	10. Chapter 10: The Audience

\- Chapter 10: The Audience -

As they sat waiting together, Hindel felt Nancie's eyes upon him. It made him feel strange inside, but not embarrassed. They were beyond that point in their relationship now.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Should I be?"

"No," she said, tilting her head at him slightly. "But most people would be. It is an audience with the king and queen, after all."

He shrugged. "Iom himself has called me as his chosen servant. How can I be impressed with earthly leaders?"

"Something is bothering you, though. At least, that's how it looks to me," she added, as though in apology. "If there is something, I'm willing to listen."

He nodded, but couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes as he told her, "I prayed to Iom this morning. About how I... killed Brehen."

She turned her eyes away from him, not with shame or revulsion, but with polite discretion. What happened to Brehen was not a sensitive issue for her, but she seemed to understand that it was one for him. "And did he answer?"

"Yes. ...Basically, he said just what you said. That Brehen was desecrating the shrine, and deserved to die."

He paused there, and she said, "There, you see. You have nothing to be ashamed about."

He resumed, "Then I told him that that wasn't why I killed Brehen, that I was just angry at him. I mean, I say that I told him, but of course he already knew. And he..." He trailed off, staring into the distance.

"He what?" she prompted.

For another few moments he just continued staring, looking for some meaning and purpose that he knew in his heart was out there in the distant heavens, but unable to find it.

Then he finished, "He said that it didn't matter. He said that because I am his chosen one, I have the right to kill anyone, for any reason."

Nancie returned her eyes to him, and this time she looked confused. "That bothers you?"

Hindel turned to meet her eyes as well. "Doesn't it bother you? Knowing that I could kill you at any time, and it wouldn't matter to Iom?"

Her eyes didn't waver from his. "But you wouldn't. You're a good person. You wouldn't kill anyone who wasn't truly evil, not unless it was absolutely necessary. Even then, I think you'd hesitate." She smiled gently. "Hindel, death is a fact of life. We're all going to die at some point, and many of us die every day. Sometimes justly and at the right time, but very often unjustly. You're Iom's chosen one; every death at your hand will be a just one. How can you say that isn't a beautiful thing?"

He turned away from her sharply. "Because it's murder," he returned. "It doesn't matter who the victim is, or whether or not it was their right time to die. It's still murder."

"Even when our god says that it is right?"

"That's exactly what bothers me. I'd always imagined..." His head drooped. "It sounds so egotistical when I say it, but I'd always imagined that Iom's morals and values were the same as mine. Now, well... obviously they aren't."

For a moment the two of them were silent. Then she said, "But that's not egotistical at all. It's perfectly normal. Every decent person holds to the morals and values they believe are right. And every logical person can see that the right morals and values must be those of the gods."

"Thank you. But that doesn't make this any easier." He raised his head, but his hands continued to clench in his lap. "I still believe in my own morals. I know that a mortal can't judge right and wrong over a god anymore than a rat can judge right and wrong over me, but I just can't stop believing what I believe."

"I don't think Iom expects you to. Your morals may not be Iom's, but they're not opposed to them, either."

"That's true, but..." He remembered what Iom said the first time he spoke to him. That many of the things he was meant to do as Iom's chosen one would be unpleasant. "...No, I guess you're right. There's no reason I can't be true to both myself and Iom. That's what he wants for me." He unclenched his hands and idly glanced at the door. Then he noticed something. "You're looking at me that way again. Have I sprouted more wings?"

He regretted the flippancy of the remark as soon as he said it, but she didn't seem to mind. "No, I just keep thinking of how amazing this all is. When you first told me that Iom had chosen you before you were born... Even then, I didn't imagine anything like this."

They were silent again, and a thought struck Hindel. "You know, now that you mention it... You never made good on your half of the deal."

"Deal?"

"You know, when we first met..." He flushed slightly as her eyes still showed no sign of remembrance. "...We said that when we met again I'd tell you about what Iom said to me, and you'd tell me why you couldn't stay and talk more right then..."

"Oh, that." She stared into her lap. "I think I was hoping you'd forget about that. Okay. Um, basically, my family doesn't approve of me spending too much time in shrines, especially not at human sacrifices."

"You mean... they're unbelievers?"

"No, not at all. They're very devout. It was because of something I did, when I was seven years old. They had just taught me about human sacrifice, and..." She paused, said sharply, "You can't tell this to anyone, you understand?" Without giving him time to reply, she resumed, "They had just taught me about it, and I was so eager to prove myself a good devout servant to our god, I... I took my baby sister out of her crib, and... I brought her to the shrine."

She said nothing further for a minute. Hindel understood the implication, but he wasn't sure if he should say anything, or what to say if he should.

She abruptly continued, "Of course they turned me away at the shrine. They even had a guard take me home and tell my parents. It's funny, at the time I was too young to even realize that what I did was wrong. I only knew by seeing how upset my parents were. So every year that's gone by, I've felt a bit more mortified when I look back on that day. I know that I shouldn't; I didn't mean any wrong, and I was too young to know better. But I can't help it. And sometimes I feel like I can't go on another day without apologizing to my sister for what I did. And of course I can't, because if she knew about it, it would make things awkward between us. She couldn't help but think me an inhuman monster if she knew."

Hindel still didn't know what to say. The obvious thing was to tell Nancie that her sister would understand if she told her, but Hindel didn't believe that, even for a moment. There were certain things that even your family would never understand, like his dream of killing his parents. Perhaps everyone held at least one such secret, but even if that were so, they could still never be spoken aloud.

But then, it struck him that in this case understanding was of much greater value than reassurance, which could only be hollow. He knew what to say. "I know how you feel," he said with a slow nod. "A few months ago, I had an extremely vivid dream where I murdered both of my parents by sacrificing them to Iom. It was just a dream, but still, there was no way I could ever tell them about it. Even if I would never do it, just having dreamt about it was bad enough. And it made me feel so guilty, because... in a way, sacrificing my mother and father to Iom is actually appealing. I don't want to murder anyone, much less my parents, but I would like to make that profound a sacrifice to our god."

He turned to Nancie then, and found her eyes gleaming, on the verge of cathartic tears. "That's... That's it exactly. I didn't really want to hurt my sister; I just wanted to give something special to Iom. You understand."

"Yes," he said, looking back into her eyes. He meant it both ways: he understood her, and she also understood him.

Until now, he'd never have thought he could tell someone of his darker fantasies without their rejecting him. His parents were not judgmental at all, but he knew that he could never tell even them. If he did, they would be afraid of him. They might dismiss the idea that he would really kill them, but they could not dismiss the idea that he could kill his siblings, even though he never would do such a thing. But Nancie... She knew, and she still saw him in the same light. He felt an urge to confess everything to her: the lies he'd told his mother to keep her from knowing how passionate he was about his faith, the time he'd lost his temper with Josh, his late night excursions to find sacrifices for Iom, even his feelings towards her.

He did not tell her any of those things, but only because it would have been too much all at once; he did not in any way fear her reaction. She reached for his hand and clasped it with hers. Feeling an uncomfortable but not unpleasant warmth growing in his chest, he laid his other hand over hers in reassurance.

Hindel had never experienced such intimacy before, yet it felt perfectly natural when Nancie opened a more casual subject, "I wonder why they're making us wait so long. The audience was at _their_ request."

"Maybe something came up."

Nancie was momentarily considering that when a lizardman guard passing them in the hallway abruptly turned and gave the two of them a second look. He squinted at them oddly for a moment, then walked very solemnly towards them. "Sssssir Hindel?" he said. Hindel found it hard to tell with lizardmen, but it sounded like a youthful voice, probably not much older than Hindel himself.

"Yes?" he answered, searching the guard's face. He idly wondered if they were finally being called into the audience chamber, but got the sense that that was not the case.

"My name isss Redgar. I... wassss there at the ssshrine yesssterday evening, and I wassss very moved by your sssspeech. I haven't attended worssship in a long time, but when I heard that the sssson of Deanna and Natasha and the nephew of General Hindel wassss becoming a priesssst, I felt I had to come. But I never expected to have my faith rejuvenated like that."

Looking upon Redgar, Hindel was again amazed, as he had been with Alric, at what Iom could accomplish through him. "Performing the unexpected is Iom's way," he said to the guard. "He is our god, after all. Mortals like us can't hope to anticipate him. That's why we have to hold fast to our faith, even in dark times."

"Yessss. I wassss wrong to let go of it. But... it wassss alwayssss so hard to believe at all. Never in my life until now did Iom work any wonderssss."

"He's been working them," Hindel smiled. "Just not where you've been looking. By the way, why did you mention my uncle? Why is he so special?"

"My father wasss a sssergeant under him. He told me how General Hindel treated lizardmen assss more than crude mussscle when no one elssse would. I've often thought that may have even inssspired the work your parentsss did to change our livessss."

Hindel nodded; now that Redgar mentioned it, he did seem to recall his father mentioning that about his uncle at one point.

Redgar bowed. "I have to go back to my dutiessss, but it wassss an honor to meet you, sssssir Hindel."

"Thank you. I hope I can talk to you again sometime, Redgar."

As Redgar resumed his walk down the hall, Hindel thought of how odd it was that lizardmen made his father so nervous. Even when he'd first met one, as a young child, he'd always thought they looked more comical than frightening, with the way their slim tongues flitted in and out of their mouths as they spoke.

Mostly, though, he felt a sort of pride in himself at how well he'd handled the encounter. Usually he was a bit awkward with strangers, at least at first, but this time it had all happened very naturally, despite the momentousness of the occasion. He'd spoken about Iom's glory without the fear of his words being misunderstood or rejected. It felt good.

The doors to the throne room suddenly opened, and from within a gruff voice said, "Sir Hindel, you and your companion may enter."

"Finally," Nancie muttered as she got up. "You'd think they didn't have the slightest clue who you are, after about a hundred people witnessed you manifesting Iom's power."

"We can't lose our patience with them," he whispered back to her. "Like you said, most people just need a wake up call. We have to give them that chance."

"I know. It's just frustrating."

They entered the throne room. King Amelo and Queen Gillian sat on their thrones, and next to them sat Yurligi, the queen mother. Below them stood a handful of officials who Hindel did not recognize.

Hindel realized that this was, in fact, the first time he had seen a dark elf. Yurligi, like the man to whom she had been consort, the late King Warderer, was a member of that rare species, and naturally so was their son Amelo. Queen Gillian was an ordinary elf, and though supposedly she had a trace of dark elf blood in her, there were those who argued the royal couple's failure to conceive a child cast doubt upon that. For his part, Hindel doubted that it was possible for elf and dark elf to copulate at all; though he'd read of it happening, he didn't see how they could have remained two wholly different races if they were interbreeding. Looking upon King Amelo's strange facial features made him doubt even further that beings so drastically different from elves could possibly breed with them. It was an effort not to stare at the sunken slopes of his cheeks.

"Thank you for coming, Hindel son of Deanna," King Amelo said. "As I'm sure you have guessed, we called you here to discuss what happened at the shrine last night. May I ask how you were able to transform the way you did?"

"It's simple, Your Majesty," Hindel answered. "I am a servant of Iom, our god. So he allows me to channel his power. I'm not the first to have done this."

"Yes, but you're the first to have done it during my reign." The king studied his face, and it struck Hindel how little shrewdness there was in those eyes. He decided to focus on that unexpected innocence and openness, rather than on the distracting dark elven physical features. "You caused quite a stir at the shrine."

"Yes. But my impression was that the people were held more in awe of Iom's power than in fear of me. They realized that only our god could have caused such a transformation. Once the word spreads, people will know to greet the sight of our god directing his will and protection with joy, not confusion."

"...I see. Then you intend to continue with your ministry?"

Hindel nodded. "Of course. It is Iom's will for me."

The king and queen both looked concerned now. "Then we must consider the potential for a nationwide religious reawakening. I'm sure you have already considered the impact of such a thing from a priest's perspective: the good it would do for our god. But as king, it is my responsibility to consider the good of the people."

Hindel shifted on his feet. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"From that perspective, certainly, there are advantages to being a religion-dominated country. Religious citizens are by nature patriotic citizens. Moreover, no one can deny the justice of serving the god who ensured our nation's existence."

"And who continues to ensure its existence," Hindel put in.

"Yes. But, for all the advantages, there are also some very serious disadvantages. With great devotion to Iom comes rampant abuse of human sacrifice. Remember how things were during my father's reign. He even had his predecessor King Aaron, my queen's father, sacrificed to Iom."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but King Warderer was a madman. You can't judge our religion by his example."

The king shook his head. "You misunderstand. My father is not my example. His reign is. The reason why my father succeeded in murdering King Aaron, taking control of the kingdom, and freely antagonizing our neighbors was because the people believed he was doing Iom's will. The point is, once religion is instated as the law of the land, it opens the door for opportunists like my father. And ultimately, chaos and ruin follows."

Hindel hesitated. This was similar to the argument Dust had used earlier, but King Amelo was putting it all in strictly practical terms, without regard to the moral element. That, he had to admit, made it harder to refute. Harder to even believe that it was wrong.

"And so, priest Hindel, as king of Iom I must ask you to restrain your holy desire to spread the word of our god wherever you can. For the good of our people."

As King Amelo said those words, something happened to Hindel. Iom spoke to him. That was momentous enough whenever it happened, but this time was different. This time Iom was giving him not information, but a command. Hindel's entire being felt charged with excitement at his finally having something important he could do for his god. Iom had given him so much, and now he at last could give something meaningful to Iom.

This audience, Iom explained to Hindel, was the beginning of the destiny intended for him. If Hindel did not act as Iom told him to, his plans could never come to fruition.

Hindel did not need to know that to convince him to obey Iom's command, but it did serve to excite him further. He steadied his body with an effort, then said, "No."

The king started. "I beg your pardon?"

"People in Iom will suffer because of my restoring the faith. I admit that. But even if there weren't more people who would suffer without my intervention, that's no excuse to turn our backs on our god."

Queen Yurligi and the assembled officials were now staring at Hindel. Only Queen Gillian appeared indifferent to what he had just said. "You..." Amelo quivered. "You defy the will of your king."

"You defy the will of our god," Hindel retorted. "If not for Iom's actions, you wouldn't even have a country to rule. You have your throne by Iom's authority only; he can easily take it away from you."

"And what gives you the right to speak for Iom?" Amelo snapped.

"I don't speak for Iom," Hindel said, with a deep calm. At a certain level he was aware of Nancie still at his side, standing back slightly to stay out of the way, and of the king and queen before him, and of the officials present. But at another level they all seemed distant, like inconsequential spirits from another plane, with no bearing on matters in this world. All that really mattered was Hindel himself and Iom, who seemed there beside him, his hand upon Hindel's shoulder, giving him strength he'd never known he had. "Iom speaks _through_ me. He gives me the words of hope for our people, and I deliver his words. Right now he wants me to tell you, King Amelo, that if you ask his forgiveness for trying to prevent the spread of faith and obedience to him, he will rescind his punishment for you." He paused a moment, then said, "I think it is a very generous offer."

Amelo was quivering still, though he was clearly trying to restrain it. Hindel realized, suddenly, that the king was quivering not with rage, but with fear. There was no fear in his voice, however, as he answered, "I make no apology for trying to protect my people. If you feel the restoration of... religious ardor is that important to our god, then very well; we can discuss that another day. But for now, you will refrain from further demonstrations, or you will be punished according to the law for defying your king's orders."

Hindel shook his head. "The punishment for defying Iom's orders is more terrible than the punishment for defying yours. You'll learn that yourself, now that – Oh?" Hindel froze for a moment, listening to Iom's voice. What it said surprised him, but he did not hesitate to relay it honestly. "Iom says he'll give you another chance. You'll have a few more weeks to make your apology – so long as you don't interfere with his work, of course. He feels that's something he owes you on behalf of one of his greatest servants, your father, King Warderer."

"You said Warderer was a madman for his royal sacrifices," King Amelo smirked, thinking he'd caught Hindel out. "Now you call him one of Iom's greatest servants?"

"Not because of that. History says that King Warderer was killed by my father, but Iom tells me the truth is that Warderer willingly sacrificed himself to him." He gave a nod. "It's very rare that a member of royalty gives himself up to Iom. I suppose that in a way, your father was a greater king than you."

King Amelo stared his wrath at Hindel. "You are dismissed, Sir Hindel. I would be happy to have the guards escort you and your companion out."

Hindel bowed. "That is not necessary. Iom is always there to show me the right way."

He and Nancie turned and left. The guards standing at the doors, whom he had somehow overlooked when they came in, looked relieved that they did not have to escort them out.

Once the door closed behind them, Nancie said, "Wow. You... you did it. I should feel more upset that the king tried to silence your ministry, but I'm just amazed that you told him off like that."

Hindel nodded numbly. "It was incredible, Nancie. They were Iom's words, all of it, but he needed me to speak them for him. It was like... I was Iom's voice. And I should have been so terrified, to talk back to the king of Iom, but I wasn't. I knew that Iom is with me, and that he'll never leave me, and that so long as I have him no mortal being can harm me."

"Or me, I hope? King Amelo probably wouldn't mind taking his wrath out on me."

"You'll be fine so long as you're with me." He looked at her with some surprise. "You don't sound too worried about it."

She shrugged. "There are worse fates than being a martyr. So long as I'm with you, at least I know that anything which happens to me matters."


	11. Chapter 11: The Word Spreads

\- Chapter 11: The Word Spreads -

As soon as the royal family had retired from the throne room, Amelo let out a profound sigh. "I'm sorry, Gillian. I don't know what I did wrong, but..."

"You did nothing wrong," she assured him, in that voice she had which tinkled like playful laughter. "You did exactly what I told you to do."

"But you heard him. He intends to proceed with his ministry."

"I didn't really expect anything else. I just figured this was worth a shot." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "You did fine, Amelo."

"You were reasonable, where he was unreasonable," his mother added. "The people will remember that."

But Amelo's head remained slumped. "I don't see why you don't just handle all the public speaking yourself. You're the one who makes all the major decisions, and it's not as if I'm the better public face of the two of us. The people adore you much more than me, especially the ones old enough to remember my father's reign."

"Don't say that," Gillian said, clasping his arm in both her hands. "You have to be the one who handles things like this. I may have the more adorable face, but you have the stronger face. There are people who would laugh at me for ordering them around but would bow before your every command. I can't do this on my own." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You and I, we're a team."

He looked upon her sweet, sincere face with deep attachment. It was the sort of face which, when it said "we're a team", not only truly meant it, but would be utterly heartbroken if one voiced disagreement with the sentiment.

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Amelo said. "But don't we still have a problem?"

"I told you, I anticipated Hindel's response. I've already been talking to some people who think they know how to take the wind out of his sails." She warmly clasped his hand before turning to walk away. "Everything's going to be fine. You talk to the officials, and I'll make the final arrangements for taking care of our rogue priest."

"Wait," Amelo protested. "We can't kill Hindel. His parents helped make you queen."

"And saved Amelo's life," Yurligi added. "I can't allow them to be repaid with their first-born son's death."

"Who said anything about killing him?" Gillian laughed. "You two are so jumpy. No one's going to hurt a hair on Hindel's head, I promise. ...Oh, and don't wait up for me tonight, Amelo; I'll be with Ivo."

With that, she was gone, but Amelo continued to stare after her. Ivo was Gillian's concubine and the father of her child; she often liked to spend evenings with him.

Yurligi cleared her throat. "Amelo, I've been thinking. A man your age has certain needs. We should get you a concubine."

Amelo spun on her. "Have you lost your mind, mother? Sir Edwin and the others only allowed me to be king under the condition that I would never sire a potential heir to the throne!"

"But things have changed since then. Few of the same politicians are still in power, and thanks to Gillian insisting you be the voice of the crown, people have come to see you're nothing like your father. They'll be open to your bloodline remaining on the throne."

"Of course. And to my creating a conflict over whether my son or Gillian's should be the next king? A conflict which, if I won, would mean disinheriting my best friend's child? Not to mention Gillian would be forced to give up Ivo, since the only reason the people don't object to the queen having a concubine is because they believe me to be impotent. Have you thought any of this through at all?"

Yurligi looked down at her hands. "Do you really care for Gillian so much, my son, that you prefer her to share a bed with the man she is happiest with than with you? I don't believe that of you."

"Gillian will never share a bed with me, mother!" She raised a finger to her lips to shush him, but his volume decreased only incidentally. "For the first ten years I knew her, she was like the big sister I never had. With that in our history, there's no way she will ever see me as more than her little brother. And no scheme I can devise could force her to lay with me."

Yurligi shook her head. Her son was still the boy she had shamelessly spoiled; he wanted everything, and gave up on obtaining it too easily. "If that's the way you must have it, so be it; you still need not live a chaste life. We could arrange for a woman who is barren to be your concubine."

"So that both the king and queen have concubines? That's still scandalous, mother. It's simply not worth it."

With that, they let the matter drop.

* * *

"Hey, Rick... did you see the look on His Majesty's face?"

"Yeah, I've never seen King Amelo like that."

"You think those two kids will live to see the sun set?"

"What? Come on, you don't think King Amelo is a crazy like his father?"

"Well, he's never been humiliated like that before. Who knows what he might resort to to avoid losing face again."

"King Amelo? Are you kidding me, Jacob? Hindel may have walked out of there with pride intact, but the king will have made a laughingstock out of him by nightfall."

"I wouldn't make pressssumptionsss." The other two guards turned to look at Redgar. "Ssssorry. I couldn't help overhearing."

"You know something we don't?"

Redgar opened his mouth to say one thing, then changed his mind and said, "You two are aware that Hindel issss Deanna and Natasha'sss ssson?"

"Whose son now?" Jacob said.

"The two heroes who overthrew King Warderer and led the relief efforts afterwards. Learn some history, will ya." Rick turned back to Redgar. "Anyway, I don't think that makes a difference. The man isn't his parents, and I can't imagine his parents supporting him on this."

"Maybe not," Redgar acknowledged. "But there isss another thing. I sssaw Hindel'ssss transsssformation at the ssshrine lassst night. He really doessss wield Iom'ssss power."

"Gods, Redgar," Rick groaned. "You have got to get rid of that awful lisp."

"Couldn't the transformation you saw have been just... I don't know... a trick of some kind?"

"No. I didn't jussst sssee it. I felt it. The moment he began to pull the dagger out of hisss heart, a feeling like a hundred daysss under the ssssunlight went through my every sssscale. I had never felt anything like it before, but it can only mean one thing." He nodded to Rick and Jacob. "A true prophet of Iom isss with ussss again."

* * *

"Natasha?"

She didn't answer, just continued soaking and wringing out Dawn's shirt. The sound of Deanna's voice, so gentle and full of affection, was still pleasing, and she hated herself for that. Because of Deanna, her dear son was now a killer for Iom, and she had let him do it. She had nothing to say to him.

"Natasha, Dust... approached me while I was on my walk. He has something to tell us."

He was trying to tempt her into breaking her silence. But he would not succeed. Still saying nothing to him, she set aside the laundry, got up, and followed Deanna.

Dust was waiting for them in the branches of a tree just a short walk from the house. He jumped out as soon as they came near.

Natasha instinctively clung to Deanna's back for protection and thrust out her hand to cast a spell. Once she realized it was Dust, she jerked herself away from Deanna and sighed, "Couldn't you have just knocked?"

"I knock when I am making a social visit. Otherwise, I prefer not to be greeted with a hug from whichever child reaches the door first, inaccurately hollering 'Uncle Dust'."

In spite of herself, Natasha smiled. "You love them."

"That does not mean I enjoy physical contact or being called things I am not," he returned. "And I did not come here to discuss your still homebound children."

Her first thoughts were of Hindel, but Deanna said, "Dusty? Did something happen to him on the way to Addleford?"

"Dusty's journey was without incident, so far as I know. Unfortunately, I have been very occupied with watching over Hindel."

"What's he been doing?" Natasha said, her face going pale.

"Overthrowing the government," Dust said with a shrug, and Natasha had the impression he was hiding a smirk. "But my first responsibility is to inform you that Brehen recently escaped from his prison cell, and is now dead."

"Dead?"

"No thanks to me," he said, and bent down to kneel before his chosen charges. "He attacked Hindel during his initiation ceremony. I knew he was free and expected him to try that, but I made an unforgivable oversight: I assumed he would take the best option available to him. There was a large crowd at the initiation. He could have hidden among them, struck at Hindel, and disappeared back into the crowd, and escaped without a trace. So of course I prepared for him to try that. Instead, he hid in the repository."

Deanna frowned. "You didn't check the repository?"

"Brehen must have been waiting in there nearly all day. In the hours leading up to the ceremony, the shrine was quite busy; I couldn't have checked places like the repository without being seen." He bowed his head an additional inch. "As I said, it was an unforgivable oversight."

"But Hindel is alright?" Natasha pressed. Despite Dust having already said words to that effect, she could not help but be anxious.

"Also no thanks to me."

"Damn it, Dust, get off your knees," she snapped. "I can't stand to see you like this."

"Or anyone else, eh, lady Natasha?" He did as she said. "Brehen stabbed your son in the heart. He only survived because he transformed himself into a creature of Iom."

Natasha let out a gasp and looked away. She heard Deanna say carefully, "You mean...?"

"Like high priest Leifo, yes. Only Hindel has had the chance to show that he can change back. More importantly, he's demonstrated the power in public. He's persuading people to renew their faith in Iom. Queen Gillian has ordered him to stop, using Amelo as her mouthpiece of course, but he won't back off. Since he wields Iom's power, he has no need to."

"Gillian wouldn't... harm Hindel, would she?"

"If she felt it were absolutely necessary, I think she would. But I doubt she'll consider making a martyr out of Hindel to be a good solution. He's as safe as can be for the moment."

"Good." Deanna began pacing. "Then we should focus on stopping Hindel. If we get to him as quickly as possible, we should be able to talk him down and help him work out whatever he's going through with these new powers. We're -"

"No," Natasha interrupted. Deanna looked at her, but she deliberately faced only Dust as she spoke. "I've been trying to talk Hindel out of this dream almost since he first learned to talk. He wouldn't listen then, so he's certainly not going to listen now that the dream is coming true. If we confront him now, we'll have no choice but to fight him, and I don't think any of us is ready for that." Her voice trembled at that statement, but with a deep breath she was able to steady herself. "We must wait. If Hindel succeeds in making the nation turn back to idolatry and human sacrifice, before long things will get out of hand. People will go back to sacrificing other people against their will, and ambitious people like Warderer will use the religion for their own gain. That's when we'll make our move. That's when we'll have a chance of convincing Hindel that he took the wrong path."

"Natasha," Deanna said, in disbelief at what she was saying. "Even if we don't stand a chance, we have to at least -"

"Any earlier, and we'll just risk turning Hindel against us," she finished, as if Deanna had not said a word. "Is that all?"

Dust peered at her. "Lady Natasha, are you actually ignoring your husband?"

"If you decide to support him in his plan, I'll understand. Your master was Deanna's brother, not mine."

"That is not what I was getting at."

She folded her arms. "I'm not speaking to the man who turned Hindel to this."

Dust chuckled. "Lady Natasha, how old are you?"

"Please, Dust," Deanna spoke up. "Let her be. She's endured more than enough these past weeks." He sighed. "And... her plan makes some sense. We'll leave Hindel alone for now." He looked down at his hand in thought for a moment. "Someone should tell Dusty, though. He might take up his sword against his own brother just to stop the Iom religion from getting stronger. We need to check on how he's settling in, anyway. And I could drop by the capital while I'm at it... see what I can do to keep things from getting too out of hand. Natasha, would you mind looking after things for a week or two while I take care of all that?"

She did not answer, of course. She doubted that he even expected her to; he was still talking to her only because he lacked the heart to maintain silence with her the way she was maintaining silence with him. Even knowing that, however, she could not let go of her anger over Hindel.

"Natasha?"

She sighed in deep frustration at his persistence. "Dust, tell Deanna that he can do whatever he pleases. And if by 'things' he is referring to our children, he can rest assured that I'll take much better care of them than he ever bothered trying to."

Dust said nothing, just lifted an eyebrow at Deanna as if to say, "This is a fine time to be forbidden to throw mockery her way." But Deanna himself crumbled, lowering his face with an expression more deeply ashamed than any Natasha had seen on him for twenty years. Part of her rejoiced at that, at having succeeded in making him feel some small measure of the suffering he'd caused by raising Hindel to serve Iom, and she hated herself for that. But part of her shared in Deanna's suffering, and ached to embrace him and kiss him and apologize over and over for her hurtful words, and she hated herself for that, too.

The uncomfortable silence was at last broken by Deanna. "Dust, could you... stay here while I'm gone and make sure Natasha and the children are safe?"

"I prefer to go with you. You and Hindel are far more likely to be in danger."

"But..." He hesitated a moment, then sighed. "Alright. ...I'll start packing."

Natasha said nothing to that, just headed back to the house to resume doing the laundry.

* * *

Gillian regarded the man before her with the closest she could manage to pure cold analysis. But it was hard to overlook that he was quite the tall drink of water. He had a pleasing level of muscle tone, his style of clothing was unique, and his hair was a shade of red she'd never seen before. Gillian was not in the market for a new concubine, as she loved Ivo and no one else, but she could not help but look and, on occasion, like what she saw.

She cleared her throat. "First of all – Silas, wasn't it? – I want it understood that this conversation never happened. If you speak of it to anyone, I'll deny it, and no one will doubt me. If your actions result in you being captured by Hindel's followers, or arrested by the guards, I shall not speak a word in your defense. Is that understood?" Silas nodded. "Now, what is this idea you had for dealing with Hindel, and what do you need from me?"

Silas leaned back against the wall. Gillian had to admit, his cavalier attitude, while vexing in this situation, did have a certain charm to it. "My people are more advanced than yours in most ways, but we are lacking in at least one thing: we no longer have practitioners of mind magic. You see, we find the ability to create illusions to be repulsive, and highly subject to abuse."

"Abuse?" Gillian raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me, but I don't see how that's realistically possible. Practitioners of mind magic can only consciously manipulate one person at a time, and it requires their total concentration. I don't see any way you could maintain a long term deception using illusions."

"In your country, that is no doubt the case. But we have a... magical instrument which allows a spell to be projected across a considerable area, affecting everyone within it. Used in combination with mind magic, one could make an entire crowd of people experience a shared hallucination."

She considered that a moment. "I see. You plan to use that method to publicly discredit Hindel."

Silas nodded. "So long as people think his abilities are unique, they will see Hindel as your god's messenger. We must take that away from him."

"Agreed. However. I don't like deceiving my people, especially not in such a grandiose fashion."

"Of course. But I do not intend to deceive them at all. We will explain the full truth to them."

Gillian hesitated a moment, then smiled. "I think I understand. I'll get my expert in mind magic to help you out, then." Then she allowed the smile to recede. "One last thing. You're not one of our people, so it probably makes little difference to you if one of us lives or dies. So if your plan fails, you'll be tempted to take more direct measures to stop Hindel and his followers. That will not be acceptable. If any of my people, Hindel included, are killed, and I have the slightest reason to think you're responsible, I won't rest until I have made you a sacrifice to Iom. Is that clear?"

He nodded. "Quite. Rest assured, Your Majesty," he said, putting a hand to his chest and making a slight bow, "...our problem with Hindel is as good as solved."


	12. Chapter 12: The Hearts of the People

\- Chapter 12: The Hearts of the People -

Hindel walked through the streets of Rebora.

He wore simple robes of dark red and blue. They fit very loosely around his body, for he did not want to tear them when he transformed. The hood was thrown back over his shoulders, to display his ordinary human features to everyone watching him.

At his side were Alric, Nancie, and Redgar. The lizardman guard had anticipated their departure from the capital, and traded places with a friend of his who was stationed at the city gates in the hopes that he could ask to join Hindel when he left. This proved especially fortuitous for Hindel, since King Amelo had left orders that he not be allowed to leave the capital. When the other guard at the gate tried to stop Hindel and his party, Redgar knocked him out. It was enough to make Hindel wonder if his meeting Redgar at the palace was also part of Iom's plan. Either way, it made no sense not to allow him to tag along, since he was plainly sincere.

Hindel's companions did not share his pious style of dress, but their equally solemn and resolute faces made it clear that they were with him, in the event that their close proximity did not. Redgar had a spear bound to his back, but they were otherwise unarmed. The war they waged was not to be won by bloodshed.

The people watched him with a nervous uncertainty and anticipation. By now all of them had heard of what had happened at his initiation, but few had seen it, and that left some doubt that what had happened had happened at all. There was a certain intellectual advantage in asserting that it hadn't happened, that it was the sort of lies and wishful fantasy that any logical person could see right through. Life was hard and dull, so people wanted to believe that Iom would come and protect them, so when a hardy young priest survived a knife blow they were quick to delude themselves that a new prophet of Iom had come. But no one was quite able to believe the assertion with total certainty, and if they could come up with any rationale to go get a look at the supposed prophet, they used it.

Some came to see him because they wanted it to be true. Some came because they were afraid it was true. Some came because they already felt, in their souls, that it was true.

The people gathered, young and old, male and female, healthy and infirm, human, dwarf, lizardman, elf. A massive crowd, they stood at a respectable distance, for no one knew for sure what the penalty for touching Iom's chosen one might be, if there was one.

Hindel walked through the streets of Rebora, the holy city.

It was known as the holy city because it was the place where Jerozum had first heard the voice of Iom, where he had first preached his word to the people, where the first sacrifices to their god had taken place. Aside from the memorials erected to those events, there was nothing particularly holy about Rebora during the time of Hindel. The shrines to Iom were bigger than in most cities, but fewer in number, and not as well attended. With the decline in Iom worship that began when King Amelo and Queen Gillian ascended the throne, Rebora had declined as well. Pilgrimages to the city were much less popular, and many even reviled the city for its association with what they saw as a fallen god. The population thus dwindled, and with it the trade, and so those who were left found it harder than ever to keep faith in Iom.

Hindel wanted to change that. He wanted Rebora to be a holy city in more than just name. Besides, it was Iom's will that he start his ministry in earnest here. It was the obvious place to begin.

"Look at 'em all," Alric murmured in quiet awe. "Are you alright, Hindel?"

"Yes." Hindel looked over the crowd with affection, a heartfelt desire to give them the faith they needed. "I think I'm getting used to being stared at. The greater numbers don't really change things."

"Do you know what you're going to say to 'em?"

"No. I'll know when we reach the place where I am to speak. No sooner, no later." He took in a soft, calm breath. "And they will be the right words."

They continued their walk through the city. Hindel had never been to Rebora before, but as they walked Iom told him his memories of the place.

Or rather, showed him. Just as Iom had shown Hindel events that had occurred in Castle Cypress while he was still in his mother's womb, he now gave to him a vision of Rebora as it was when the prophet Jerozum had first preached there. Hindel was now walking very near where Jerozum had walked hundreds of years ago, and at Iom's suggestion, he shifted his steps so that his form in the present overlapped with Jerozum's form in the past. He continued walking in the footsteps of his religion's founder. The very notion set a wonderful tingling through his body. He looked around him, simultaneously seeing both Rebora's present citizens and those of its ancient past.

Jerozum, Iom told him, was a good man, a humble man. To save his people, he had walked many miles, suffered much abuse and ridicule, and even sacrificed his own first born child to Iom, for it was the only way to remove all doubt of his sincerity from the people's minds. At the same time, it served as a powerful illustration.

"I cannot ask you to sacrifice your own children to Iom," Jerozum had said to the crowd, tears streaming from his eyes. "I do not want anyone to feel the pain that I am feeling now. But if we do not call upon the mighty Iom to save us, then you will all wish that you had killed your children, for that fate is far better than the one which the invading devil hordes will visit upon them!"

Time would prove Jerozum right, for he was not able to convince enough people to turn to Iom before the devils had conquered most of the small city states and tribes that would later become the nation of Iom. In a last desperate attempt to save his people, Jerozum sacrificed himself to Iom, but that was still not enough to summon the god. However, Jerozum's words and deeds were not forgotten, either by those he had convinced to turn to Iom nor those who had scoffed at his warnings. A revolt against the devils in the town of Pamel ended with the insurgents sacrificing most of their captors, including a greater devil, to Iom. This, combined with the sacrifices performed under Jerozum, was enough to bring Iom to the mortal realm for the first time. The contingent of the devil army subsequently sent to quell the revolt never stood a chance. The salvation of Iom had come.

Yes, Jerozum had been a great man, Iom told Hindel - and still was a great man, now as a part of him. But Hindel eclipsed him completely. While Jerozum was genuinely pious, his actions were motivated by a desire to save his people, whereas Hindel was motivated by love for Iom himself. Where Jerozum had been Iom's instrument for saving a nation, Hindel was to be Iom's instrument for saving the world.

Not long ago, hearing Iom bestow such glory on him would have made him feel as though a crushing weight were upon his shoulders. Now he accepted it gladly. For he was Iom's chosen one, which meant that though he would do great things, the true weight of it all would be lifted for him by his god. Hindel alone could never have restored Alric's faith, or openly denounced his king, but with Iom he had accomplished those things and would accomplish many more.

They at last reached the chosen place. The memorial stage where history said Jerozum had delivered his first sermon. In truth, Iom told him, it was more like his fourth sermon, but this was the first one to gain real attention. As Hindel stepped onto the stage, he wondered if the significance would be lost on an audience who had wandered away from their faith. Not that it mattered; whether or not people realized it, this was a new beginning for the worship of Iom.

"People of Iom," he announced. "I, Hindel son of Deanna, have come here to declare to you a message of salvation. Whatever you may have been told these past years... whatever you may have come to believe based on lack of evidence... our god is still with us, and still protecting us."

A voice from the crowd called out, "Protect us from what? Iom has been at peace for almost 20 years!"

Hindel felt a flash of anger at this declaration of selfishness and short-sightedness. But before he could offer a retort, Iom spoke to him, soothing him, reminding him to be patient with his fellow mortals, for in terms of bare intellect, flesh, and spirit, he was no better than them. Sacrilege was unforgivable, but defiance was a sin that he could and must forgive over and over.

When Hindel spoke, then, it was with great calm. "You're right. But however long peace lasts, it cannot last forever. A threat to Iom will arise again, and how do you expect our god to fend it off if we have not been worshiping him? His strength comes from our sacrifices. And if we give him those sacrifices, his due, only when we want something in return, then how can we call ourselves worthy of being his people?" He raised his hands before the crowd. "We tried that way before, and it brought about Iom's defeat and our own ruin. If we do better for Iom, Iom will do better for us. If you need further proof that this is the case, then behold."

He raised his arms, allowing the long sleeves of his robes to slip down to his elbows, and willed the transformation to occur. Once again, his small human body became a hulking, invincible manifestation of Iom's power, while his insides sang with new closeness to his god, in wonderful intimacy with the mighty being who had protected his people for countless generations.

As before, he willed the transformation to stop before reaching his head. Iom had explained to him that his mind would indeed be affected if his head were transformed, but not to the extent that he would lose his identity, and even that change would be reversed once he changed back to human form. But though the prospect of transforming his entire body no longer frightened him, it would be an impediment to communicating with the crowd before him.

With his transformation complete, the crowd was reduced to awed silence. Many of those present were too young to have witnessed the work of a god made manifest. Most of those who were not too young had not been fortunate enough to see it before. But even to the few who had witnessed such an event before, its impact was enough to leave one staggered.

"Aw, come on! Haven't any of you people seen magic before?"

Hindel recognized the voice, even before the giant of a man leapt onto the stage. This time, however, he was not stunned into inaction by his appearance. "You!" He strode forward to seize the man, intending to deliver his overdue punishment for harassing the high priest.

But the man greeted his advance with a firm shove that knocked him backwards. While Hindel's Iom-powered body could easily overcome even the man's considerable strength, he had not expected anyone would have the courage to use force against a manifestation of Iom's power.

"Back off. This isn't a shrine now, is it? So what's wrong with seeing your filthy lies exposed here?"

"The only lies here are yours," Hindel returned, and held out a clawed hand for everyone to see. "The truth of Iom can be plainly seen, right here."

"Yeah? Well, then I guess the truth of Iom can be plainly seen right here, too!"

With that, the man held out his own clawed hand, covered in the same dark chitinous material as Hindel's.

For a moment Hindel stared at the man's hand in utter confusion. _How could Iom's power dwell within this blasphemer? Even if he obtained it by some unusual means, he should not be able to call on the power of Iom without faith._

The man grinned at him, and in one swift motion, used both his hands to tear his tunic from his body, showing that his entire torso was perfectly identical to Hindel's. "How about that? It looks like good old Marcus is a chosen servant of Iom, too."

Hindel could only stand there silent, helpless, lost. The sight of Iom's power manifest in the man who mocked the god's name was disconcerting enough, but what made it much worse was that Iom was saying nothing to him. _Iom must, at the least, have some idea what is going on. So why won't he tell me?_

"You see, there's nothing special about this priest's power," Marcus said, addressing the crowd. "Anyone can wield it, whether they bow down to a lifeless statue or not."

Hindel seethed, wishing there were something he could say, but what could he say to explain things if Iom wouldn't explain it to him?

Then it hit him. _Of course. Iom only helps us when we need it. If Iom won't tell me the answer, it must be because he knows I can figure it out for myself. Think. Logically, this man can't call on Iom. So... the most obvious answer is that he _didn't_. So how..._

As he was pondering, he at last noticed something. As always when he was in this form, he could feel Iom's strength within him, surging and roiling, not just as a part of him, but as a glimpse of something from the realm of the gods. But from Marcus, he felt nothing. No power. Not from Iom or any other god.

That was the answer. "You don't wield Iom's power," Hindel pronounced.

Marcus turned towards him. "Hmm?"

"You don't wield Iom's power!" Recognizing the need to prove it, he seized Marcus's arm and squeezed it in his clawed grip until blood oozed out and he gasped with the pain. "It's an illusion! You're displaying Iom's appearance, but not his essence!" He glared at Marcus, burning with fury that he had willfully deceived these innocent people, who had come here to hear the truth, and glorying in the fact that Iom had given him the chance to expose the lie.

To his surprise, however, Marcus grinned all the more confidently. "Now you understand. You're right. It's an illusion." He faced the crowd again and snapped his fingers. With that, the false image was gone, and Marcus could be seen as a normal human with no vestige of Iom's power. "It's all an illusion. I'm just one man, and even I could provide just as convincing evidence of Iom's existence as this priest. Can you people imagine how many mages the church of Iom can call on to weave illusions and miracles and credit them to Iom, all so that they can swindle you? You can't trust the evidence of your eyes. Listen to your common sense!"

"Believers don't use just the evidence of their eyes," Hindel returned. "They -"

"Shut it," Marcus said, and snapped his fingers. In an instant, Hindel was returned to his fully human form, not at all at his own wish. He was so startled by the change that he let go of Marcus's arm.

"You see? The eyes deceive. Your faith deceives. You wish to believe in a higher being, one who will protect you and save you, and give you a cause to serve. But the truth is that when you serve Iom, or any god, _this_ -" - he pointed a condemning finger at Hindel - "...is all that you serve: a diminutive youth with no real power except that which you yourselves give to him. If the prospect of thinking for yourselves is so unbearable that you'd rather give all you have to a band of frauds and parasites, by all means, bow down to Iom. But if -"

Hindel had been softly laughing for about half of Marcus's speech, and it now rose to a full, unharnessed outpouring of laughter, making Marcus stop in confusion. It was not forced laughter, or bitter. It was laughter born of merriment, of mockery, but most of all, of grateful joy, the unexpected joy of a man who has seen the wonders worked by his god.

After a moment he noticed Marcus's bewildered expression and brought his laughter under control. "You still don't get it, do you? The eyes do sometimes deceive, but the heart... It often deceives with its desires, but never with its vision. The people didn't just _see_ me manifest the power of Iom; they felt it, in the core of their being. And whatever you make us see with your illusions, they can _still_ feel that Iom's power is present, just as I can." He addressed the crowd directly again. "You just need to realize it. Everyone who believes, despite the deception cast over your eyes, that I still wield the mighty power of Iom, raise your hand."

From out of the crowd, over a hundred people immediately raised their hands. Others took longer, looking at the fragile and unassuming youth on the stage, weighing that visual evidence against his words, his manner, and what they felt inside, and trying to determine what it all meant. But one by one, all of them raised their hands as well. Or if not all, near enough to it that an onlooker could not hope to find the dissenting minority.

"You believe," Hindel said to them, with more pride than he had ever before felt in his countrymen. "You believe in what you cannot now see, and that -"

"Shut it!" Marcus seemed angered now. "You're nothing but a silver-tongued fraud," - he advanced on Hindel and planted his hands on his adversary's chest, to give him a powerful shove - "and I can prove - Aaagh!"

Marcus's strength had not been enough to knock over Iom's chosen one, or even budge him. Hindel had grasped the offending arms and yanked them away from his chest, the talons of his fingers digging a few more gouges out of Marcus in the process. An instant later, Marcus's illusion vanished, allowing all to see that Hindel indeed still bore the image and power of Iom.

"Laying violent hands on Iom's chosen one is not permitted," Hindel said, while Marcus nursed the tiny wounds in his arm. "You should go now. Your argument has now been thoroughly disproved."

"You think so?" Marcus growled, in a voice too low for anyone but Hindel to hear. "I don't." He stood up tall and pointed to the rooftops above. There stood two... three... Hindel slowly looked all around... four... six... seven... ten... a dozen archers. They had been concealed from view, but at Marcus's signal they emerged and readied their arrows. "We'd hoped that some harmless illusion would be enough to make the point. But since it wasn't, a shower of bloody arrows will prove beyond all doubt how powerless Iom is!"

Hindel regarded the archers coolly, steeling himself for the necessary act of transforming his head. Nancie, Alric, and Redgar moved to his aid, but he waved them off. "You're a fool, if you think some flying twigs can harm Iom's chosen one."

"What an ego!" Marcus laughed. "It's always about you, isn't it, Hindel son of Deanna? Those arrows are not meant for you. They're for your sheep!"

As he watched the archers take aim, Marcus's meaning sank in. "No," he managed through a suddenly dry throat. "You... you can't! They've done nothing!"

"You people think Iom protects you? Then let him protect you from this!" Marcus roared, and signaled the archers to fire.

As one, the archers released their arrows into the crowd. They tore into one innocent person after another. Screams of agony and terror rang out, joined by Hindel's own scream of horror. Blood was shed, panic was instilled, and even a few bodies fell to the ground, lifeless. Hindel could only look on, helpless, scarcely able to even believe that such senseless carnage could happen. His killing of Brehen had been horrible enough, but it was nothing compared to this.

Then his attention was caught by something in his peripheral vision. It was Marcus, trying to escape off the stage and slip into the panicking crowd. Hindel's mind went blank save for one thought: No one could be allowed to do something like this and get away with it. With only that one thought repeating over and over, he leapt at Marcus and grabbed him by the throat. At that point the urgent need to do _something_ to help the people being fired upon raised its voice, so he relinquished his desire for punishment and simply twisted his neck until there was a "snap" which, though not at all satisfying to his righteous outrage, was at least final. Marcus would not harm innocent people ever again, and that was what counted.

His full attention back on the bloodshed in the square below, Hindel still could think of nothing he could do. Nothing but prayer. And for once, he had no words for Iom; only a desperate wish for the killing and pain to stop.

But Iom had no need for words. In a flash, Hindel saw that he did have the power to protect these people. Without hesitation he stretched out his hands to opposite ends of the sky, as though he could stop all the raining arrows with just his arms. And in response to his will, an azure blue shield appeared, instantly forming a protective dome so enormous that it enclosed the entire crowd. Arrows which struck the shield ploked off it and fell harmlessly to the ground.

But Hindel felt each arrow striking the shield, down to the depths of his nerves, and he knew he couldn't hold up the the shield forever, in any case. His mind raced. Somehow, even after the revelation that he was Iom's chosen servant, he'd never imagined himself in a situation like this, where the slightest hesitation on his part could mean the end of someone's life. All his countless hours of learning strategy, never meant to be anything more than an academic pursuit for his own intellectual enjoyment, came rushing to him in an instant. He began shouting orders to his friends.

"Nancie, use your magic to heal as many of the wounded as you can! Alric, take this!" With one hand he tore a thin board from the memorial stage and tossed it to his friend; it would make a decent makeshift bo staff. "Redgar, you've got a shield - protect Alric from the arrows while the two of you take out as many of those archers as you can! Get the ones on that building first; they have a wider range than the others!"

To his deep gratitude, they moved to follow his orders without hesitation. His friends were not only pious and faithful; they were brave. And they trusted him. Hindel prayed to Iom that he would be worthy of that trust.

Just then, another figure came forth, this one by flight. It was a birdwoman, soaring up from the crowd on a direct course to the attackers. "No more!" she bellowed. "Do you hear me, you bastards?! No more!"

For a moment Hindel felt a cool dash of relief, thinking a city guard must have happened to be in the crowd. Then he realized to his dismay that the birdwoman had no shield or plating, and wasn't even armed. She was on a kamikaze mission.

An archer managed to get off one shot at her. It went through her wing, tearing a few feathers loose and releasing a stream of blood that sprayed down on Hindel's face, but it did not stop her from reaching her target. She grappled with the archer, trying to pull him off the edge of the roof while he attempted to draw the sword he wore at his side. One of his comrades was already coming to his assistance.

Hindel grit his teeth, trying to think of something he could do to help. Alric and Redgar were already on the roof of another of the buildings, as he'd instructed them, battling the three killers there. They'd never reach the birdwoman in time. Nancie still had dying people to tend to in the crowd. Hindel himself might be able to reach the archers with a Demon Breath spell, but he'd never tried one before, and more importantly, to get close enough he'd have to move the shield, exposing some of the crowd.

Not enough troops. It was a conundrum he'd been challenged with many times in his strategy studies, but here the consequences were far more painful to contemplate.

He made his decision. A few people might die if he moved his shield, but the birdwoman would definitely die if he did nothing. He called out to the crowd, "Everyone come towards me! Stay as close to me as you can!"

As he took his first step toward his target, however, a man in emerald robes who he could have sworn wasn't there before appeared behind the archer who was coming to stop the birdwoman, and cried out "Blaze!" As the man burst into flames, the birdwoman managed to strike her opponent with a left hook. In the split-second advantage that earned her, she seized the sword he'd been trying to draw. In the next moment, she had cut him down.

Meanwhile, the combination of Redgar's spear and Alric's bo had cleared their rooftop of enemies. These two combined victories reduced the area covered by the archers enough so that Hindel could advance on another of their nests without leaving any of the crowd vulnerable. Once he was in range, he willed his body's transformation to spread over his head, and then let loose with the most powerful weapon Iom had given him: Demon Breath. It felt like his own flesh was being flayed off in bloody strips, but it was nothing compared to what the rooftop attackers were experiencing. Through the strange new vision of his Iom-born eyes, Hindel watched them being torn into messy collages of muscle and bone with grim satisfaction. It was no more than what murderers of innocent men, women, and children deserved.

The birdwoman was flying towards the next building, but the remaining attackers had already realized that the tide was turning. Hindel thought he heard a familiar voice calling "Egress!", and then they were gone. With a sigh of relief, he let his shield drop and willed his head back to human form. He felt almost ready to collapse. But he still had one last concern to quiet.

"Nancie!" he called, pushing his way into the crowd. "Are you alright? Nancie!"

"I'm... here!" Her voice was loud enough for him to hear, but strangely weak.

A last bit of the crowd parted for him, and he found her, kneeling before a dead child.

Nancie looked up at him. Her eyes were wet. "I couldn't save them," she sobbed. "I tried, but I haven't practiced healing enough, I ran out of magic after just two people. I started with someone else, but... it wasn't enough. I tried helping the others, but without magic, I..."

"It's okay," he said. He reverted fully to his small, fragile human form, and Nancie fell into his arms, weeping. "It's okay."

"I failed!"

"We both failed. But it wasn't our fault that those people died." He rubbed her back reassuringly.

He heard a voice to his left call out, "Are you two okay?" It was Alric, with Redgar beside him.

Hindel allowed himself a slight smile. "We're better for seeing you two. Thanks for your help with stopping that slaughter."

Alric shrugged. "Redgar did most of the work, really. I'm sorry we couldn't take any of 'em prisoner."

"It wasss your brave diversssionsss which won the victory."

As Redgar was talking, the birdwoman from before came down for a landing beside him. "Sir Hindel, can I have a word with you?" she said. "My name is Adorn. I'm not sure I understand everything you were saying about Iom, but if people are willing to do such horrible things just to stop you... then, may I please join you? If something like this is going to happen again, I want to be there to stop it."

Hindel nodded. "Anyone who wishes to join me is welcome. Iom never turns anyone away."

"Sir Hindel!" another voice from the crowd called out. Nancie, wiping the tears from her eyes, discretely pulled away from his arms, as though afraid she was hogging him to herself. "We came here to see if Iom's power still protects us, and you've shown to us that it does. But you've also shown that you wield that power, something no one else has done in decades. Who are you?"

"I am..."

He stopped himself. He was going to say "Iom's chosen servant", but that would just raise the question "Chosen for what?" It was an answer which, though revelatory to one who had lived nearly his entire life with a thread binding him to Iom, was essentially meaningless to these people. He needed a more meaningful answer. As soon as he wished for such an answer, through his bond to Iom, he had one.

"I am the cloud of Iom," he said in a voice loud enough for all to hear. "Iom has sent me to shelter his people from the sun's blistering heat, to pour down the refreshing rains that make the crops of their faith grow and bear fruit. Those under my shade will be protected from persecution. Those who strike against Iom or his people will not escape my sight. I will be your champion for as long as I live, not because I want to be - although I do - but because Iom wills it. And even after I am gone, he will watch over you still, from generation to generation."

The crowd was respectfully silent during his proclamation, and they remained silent after he finished. _Did I say the wrong thing?_ Hindel worried. _The truth I told them came from Iom, but the words were all my own. Did I sound arrogant, or distant?_

Then the crowd ignited into joyous cheers. As one, they cried out praises to Iom. Looking over them all, his beautiful, vulnerable fellow mortals, Hindel at last understood, truly understood, why Iom would never give up on these people, however faithless they behaved. Tears of love ran down his face.

But another voice managed to break through the cheers. "But it's too late! My son's dead! Iom let them kill him!"

Nancie protested, "I tried to save her! I really tried!" Then her face collapsed, and lowering her eyes to the ground she said, "I'm sorry." Everyone else probably assumed she was apologizing for her failure to save the child, but Hindel knew Nancie well enough by now to realize that she was in fact apologizing for having spoken up in her defense. To her, there was no justification for arguing with someone who had just lost a child.

"It's true," Hindel admitted to the crowd. "I can't promise to save each and every single person. I can only promise that I'll do my best. And that I won't be alone." He looked over his comrades: Nancie, Alric, Redgar, and Adorn. "Together, we are your defenders. We are the Shining Force!"

Cheers started to rise at this statement, but Hindel said, "No! I ask applause for Iom, but not for myself, and I'm sure my friends feel the same. Especially with the dead here still unattended to."

This provided the cue for Hindel and his comrades to help the people of Rebora with ministering to and clearing away the dead, first the innocent villagers who had been shot down, then Marcus and his subordinates.

As Hindel was unfastening the quiver from one of the archers, a man in emerald robes approached. "Sir Hindel? My name is Kellen. I, um..."

He looked up. "You're the mage who came to Adorn's aid earlier."

"Not just that. I... I'm the one who cast all those illusions that Marcus used," he confessed. In response to Hindel's look, he said in a rush, "I swear to you, I had no idea they were planning to kill anyone! I didn't even know they had archers in position at all! I... I want to help make things right."

"Alright," Hindel nodded. "It's pretty obvious that you and Marcus are just part of a larger group of anti-religious zealots. If you want to make things right, you can start by telling where the lot of you are based, so we can make sure the slaughter that happened here today never happens again."

"We... We come from Tyber. Our own country isn't totally devoid of religious fervor, but we thought Iom needed our attention more."

"You hesitated," Hindel observed, and a dark suspicion reared its head. "You're not one of Marcus's group, are you? You were assigned to work with him by someone else."

Kellen's face went pale. "No."

"I think yes. A true devotee of Marcus's cause wouldn't turn against the cause so readily. And King Amelo made it clear he was ready to take steps to stop my ministry."

"No! King Amelo would never deceive his own people!"

"Queen Gillian, then. Or the queen mother. They kept quiet during my audience with the king, but it's not hard to guess they might feel the same as he does."

Kellen hung his head. "I didn't mean it to be like this. I wanted to make things right, not betray the royal family. ...Please, you must believe that they had no intention of this happening!"

"I believe you. But Kellen, whatever their motives may be, the royal family allied with men who deceived and slaughtered Iom's people. We can't allow something like that to happen again. We must go back to the capital and settle this with the king and queen."

"What... What do you intend to do?"

"That depends on the king and queen. Are you with us?"

Kellen hesitated a moment, then nodded.

Hindel briefly cast his thoughts ahead. He couldn't guess what might await him back in the capital, but whatever happened, the course of the entire nation would be set in a new direction. Iom assured him of that.

End Part 1


	13. Chapter 13: Daddy Was No Diplomat

Part 2: Rainfall

\- Chapter 13: Daddy Was No Diplomat -

"Let go of me, you useless witch!" Taela shrieked, striking the woman across the face. As she reeled back from the blow, her grip on Taela's arm was released, and her young captive was quick to bolt down the hall. As Taela reached the corner, where Rimeon was waiting for her, she turned and hollered, "You'll pay for this, you'll see! I swear to you, my father will have you begging in the cold wind by tomorrow!"

The old woman was still standing there, the tips of her fingers just touching the spot where Taela had struck her, apparently in shock. Satisfied, Taela gave a huff and strode away.

Rimeon kept pace with her, fidgeting as he always did in situations like these. "Maybe you shouldn't have done that, Taela."

"Why?" she said with faux innocence, then smirked. "You think I was bluffing?"

"No... I mean..."

"I know what you meant." She brushed a hand over the fur on her head, confirming it to be as perfectly smooth as always. "I swear, Rimeon, you're twice as nagging as a conscience." She did not pronounce this as a criticism.

"And... as easy to ignore?" Rimeon suggested.

"Hey, what do you want me to say? You think I should kiss the feet of every warty old hag I meet, and I think life's way too short for that. What's left to talk about?"

He darted one eye in her direction. "You could at least _pretend_ to be nice," he said in just above a mumble.

"And you could at least take better care of your fur," she returned, tweaking one of the many loose tufts surrounding his ears. "Honestly, if it wasn't such a dark shade, you'd never get away with walking around like that."

"It's fine." He swatted her hand away. "I don't mind being a bit ragged, alright?"

Taela giggled. "I can't wait until you fall in love with someone, just to see you totally flip-flop on that position."

"Fat chance. In case you hadn't noticed, there aren't a lot of beastwomen around here."

"Heh, that's a problem you won't have much longer!" a chipper voice rang out, accompanied by a hand lightly slapping onto Rimeon's shoulder. "We're still going on our little adventure, right? I got my parents' permission last night."

It was Caleb, behaving two or three notches more lively than usual. Taela grinned. "You think we'll meet a lot of beastwomen on the road?"

"Sure! Anyway, we'll be getting out there in the world, right? That's what Rimeon needs to do if he's going to meet people of his own kind, right? ...Um. I didn't mean it quite like that."

"No worries," Rimeon said. "But Karis might not be able to get her parents' permission. She says they're worried it might be dangerous for her."

"Dangerous? But she'll be with us!"

"There's only four of us, and none of us have combat experience. Hadn't you thought of that?"

"Oh, you're such a wet blanket, Rimeon," Taela said, poking him with her elbow. "We don't have combat experience because there's no need for it. Cypress has hardly any bandits or monsters, and we're not going abroad, so what's your worry? I swear, sometimes I think you like to make up problems."

"_I'm_ not the one saying that there's problems," he protested. "It's Karis's parents. Tell it to them."

"You bet I will! I'm not gonna be the only girl on this trip."

"Besides, she's our friend," Caleb put in. "We can't go without her."

"Well, sure." _Geez. Why does he always talk all fruity and sentimental like that?_

Rimeon was scratching his ear in a manner that made him look uncomfortable. "I really don't know if you can convince Karis's parents of this, Taela. You might be better at persuasion than anyone alive, but even you can't make a mother and father be unconcerned about their child's safety."

An authoritative voice cleared its throat and spoke, breaking up the friends' banter. "Parents have many concerns when it comes to their children. Safety is not the only one of grave importance." As the teenagers froze in their tracks, an elegant kyantol stepped forward, a silver staff firmly tapping against the castle floor. "Taela, come to my office right now. We need to have a talk."

Her friends were still frozen, but Taela didn't even shiver as she put her hands on her hips. "We can talk right here," she pointed out.

"In my office, Taela." When she didn't immediately waver, he said, "Don't make me embarrass you in front of your friends."

Taela gave Caleb and Rimeon each a regretful glance and a mumbled goodbye, then walked off towards her father's office. She hated to cave in, but... _Oooooh... Who am I kidding? Daddy can be downright scary when he wants to, and besides, much as I'd hate to admit it to anyone but myself, I want him to be proud of me. Aside from being way too stiff, he's the coolest adult ever._

_ I just wonder what it is that's got his robes all in a stitch._

The door to the office closed behind her after she entered. She kept her eyes to herself and just sat down in the chair set in front of the desk, waiting until her father had taken the seat behind the desk and spoke. "I want you to apologize to Sara."

"Who?"

He placed his hands on his desk and leaned forward in a manner that made Taela shrink back. "The woman you disobeyed, insulted, and _struck across the face_ just a minute ago."

"Dad, did she even tell you what she was ordering me to do? Or -"

"I don't care," he interrupted, his glare reducing her to immediate silence. "There is no excuse for you treating someone like that."

"But... she's just a servant," she mumbled.

"All the more reason to accord her basic respect. She works more in one day than you do in a month." Taela made no reply, so he went on, "You will apologize to her, and as punishment for your behavior, as well as a chance to give you some new perspective, you will help her with all her chores for tomorrow."

By this time Taela couldn't hold it in anymore. "Oh, come on!" she exploded. "You treat servants like the common dirt all the time! Especially that human... what's her name..."

"Yeesha," he filled in. "And the fact that she has since left this castle, married, and opened a school for young mages should make it particularly clear to you how misguided my behavior to her was. People in all walks of life contribute to the good of society."

"So I'm supposed to do as you say and not as you do?! I listen to what you say all the time, dad, but that's just ridiculous!" Taela shot up from her chair, her back stiffly upright as she glared at her father. Her face felt electrified from righteous indignation. She turned and seized the door handle.

"Taela!" The tone of his voice made her hesitate. "You will stay here and listen until I say you can go, or your trip with your friends is off."

Part of her whispered that she could just disobey. But her head told her that that was impossible. Her dad was smart; if he didn't want her to go on an adventure with her friends, he knew enough to tell Caleb and Rimeon about his disapproval. Rimeon was too much of a good little soldier to go along with anything a responsible adult had forbidden, and Caleb wouldn't dare go against her father. She sighed, and turned back around.

"Sit down," he ordered. She returned to her previous seat. As soon as she did so, her father got up from his. She sighed more deeply. He ignored this and began pacing around the room. "Taela, the fact is... I'm not a very good person. My discourtesy towards Yeesha is the least of the wrongs that I've done - that I continue to do. His Majesty turns a blind eye to most of my schemings... just between you and me, I think he makes use of them sometimes. It's very easy for me to continue doing them. Very hard to give up the habits that have carried me through life.

"Take Yeesha as an example. It took me a long time to realize that my uncivil behavior towards her stemmed from... from weakness and fear." This admission came out as a shuddering sigh. Taela stared at her father with dismay. These were not things she wanted to hear about him. "Fear that if she were ever to take a stand against me, I'd lose all the power I'd worked so hard to gain. But even after I realized this, and recognized how petty it was, I couldn't stop. I've tried to do the right thing, all the more so once you were born, and I like to think that I've succeeded a good deal of the time, and that I've benefited the world more than I've harmed it. But I am not proud of myself, Taela.

"And... I want you to be better than that. I want you to be a better person than me."

_I swear, I could have lived my whole life without hearing this. How is this supposed to make me having to grovel before a servant any less unfair?_

Her father appeared to get some reading of her thoughts off her face, and resumed, "You have to understand, Taela, how important you are. Your mother and I were not fortunate in our efforts to build a family. After the disappointment with your older sisters, you were a wondrous miracle to us."

"Huh?" she interjected. "I have sisters?"

"Your mother miscarried twice before we had you."

"Oh." There was a pause. "So... what does any of this have to do with me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, dad! You've said a lot about why _you_ should want to kiss up to old hags, but tell me why I can't live my own life! Did you do everything your parents wanted, huh?"

He stood still now. His face looked pained. "You're like this because of me. You learned this disrespect for other people from watching me." He sat back in his chair with a sigh. "And you're right; it's up to me to teach you why it's wrong. For now, we're going to go and apologize to Sara. Or you're not going on that trip with your friends. Is that understood?"

"Yeah..."

"Good." They both stood up, and he smiled slightly. "I do want you to go on this trip, Taela. You've... chosen some very good friends for yourself. It will be good for you to spend some quality time with them."

"Yeah? Well, we might not be going, anyway. Not if Karis's parents have anything to say about it."

"Is that so?" Her father cocked an eyebrow. "Well. You may consider that problem dealt with."

Despite the lecture she'd received, and the imminent trial of apologizing to the old servant hag, Taela couldn't help but smile at this. That was one of the coolest things about her father; when he said something would be done, then whether through his skills of persuasion or the sheer power of his position as minister, it was as good as done.

* * *

"I don't get it."

"One of Guardiana's most renowned warriors is due to arrive in Cypress in three days, and my cousin's arranged for me to have training with him. If I were to go on this trip, I'd miss it," Barro repeated. "What's so hard to understand about that?"

Rimeon shook his head. "I understand the excuse. What I don't understand is why you're making it. Or what reason you could have for not wanting to go on this trip. Or why you're telling just me, and not the others."

"Have _you_ ever tried telling Taela you're not going to do something she wants you to do?"

"Fair point," Rimeon said, with a sympathetic grimace. "But, as to the rest...?"

"My training is important, Rimeon."

"Uh huh." Rimeon surveyed the prince. Not the true prince, since he was King Nicholas's first cousin, not his son, but Barro certainly looked the regal part. His attire was woven of the finest cloths, but in subdued colors. His handsome face seemed strong, confident, inviting in with a look all Cypressian subjects, and thoroughly dedicated to his regal duty. Except... "It's official, Barro: You're never going to be king. Prince Eli has come of age, so there's no chance of you being even an interim ruler. And honestly? There was never more than a spirit of a chance of that."

"I don't _want_ to be king!" Barro snapped. "I've never wanted to be king! I -" He stopped, and let his head droop. He took a breath, and Rimeon swallowed, unsure of what to say. "Alright. You know I really want to go on this trip, Rimeon. Enough so that I'd miss out on a chance to train with Guardiana's most renowned warrior. But even though I'm never going to be king, I still have responsibilities."

"No, you don't. King Nicholas would agree to let you go on this trip if you'd just ask."

Barro nodded. "Actually, he'd insist on it. But I hold _myself_ responsible for certain things. Like my cousin Eli."

"What about him?"

"I can't tell you. Let me just say - and don't breathe a word of this to anyone - that there's a chance, just the faintest chance, of him doing something to disgrace the royal family. On top of that, Nicholas says there have been some worrisome things going on at the courts of Emild, Sharland, and Guardiana. Nothing he's sure of, but it could be trouble in the near future. I... Maybe it's illogical, but I feel like I can't leave now. If the worst happens, I don't trust Eli to take care of himself."

"Barro, Cypress is at peace. King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair are the strongest rulers in history, and they have three perfectly capable children ready to step in if, may the gods forbid it, something were to happen to them. The kingdom isn't going to collapse if you leave the castle for a few weeks."

"I know, I know. Like I said, maybe it's illogical, but still." He looked to the left, as though expecting an eavesdropper. "There's something else. I told you about Eli and the foreign courts because I know you can be trusted to keep a secret better than anyone. I'm telling you this now because I know you're the only one of our group who won't be offended." He sighed. "The rest of you are all about the same age. You can't tell so much anymore, but I'm ten years older than you. I've always been the big brother, and that was fine when you were kids. But now?" He smiled sadly. "It's been getting a bit awkward."

Rimeon scratched the back of his ear. "You know, you could just try treating us as equals."

"I _have_ tried, believe me. It just doesn't feel right. Especially not when Taela and Caleb are still looking at me as the chaperone. Plus, all of my other friends are too old now to be organizing an adventure like the one the rest of you are planning. It's hard to overlook that." He looked sad, yet somehow, accepting. "I feel like I've just... grown up. And I don't want to be the grown up around people I used to play with as a kid." He held out his hand to Rimeon. "But I'll always be there for you when you need me. I promise."

Rimeon took his hand and shook it. "Thanks. We'll... We'll try to enjoy ourselves without you."

* * *

"I thought we might try this," Varmo said as his friend walked in, pouring two glasses of wine. "It's a new import... from someplace called Protectora. It hasn't even been made available to the rest of Castle Cypress yet."

"Sounds good," Halron grunted and took the glass offered to him.

"Ah?" Varmo looked at him anxiously. "You have an issue with me?"

Halron took a seat. "Yes. I don't think much of your delivering threats - veiled or otherwise - to Karis's parents."

"I know, I know," he waved a hand in his direction. "But Taela isn't going on this trip unless Karis goes, and Karis won't go without her parents' permission, and they weren't listening to reason, so what else was there to do?"

"A man with any principles would have found a better way. And I thought you were trying to set a good example for Taela?"

"She'll never know about it." He took a sip of wine, and made an odd face. "A bit bitter, but... interesting."

"You honestly think you can be a good father when and only when Taela is looking?" He snorted. "What am I saying? Your little girl is almost a grown woman. If you were ever going to shape up for her sake, you would have done so by now."

"That's uncalled for." Varmo set his glass down. "I love my daughter. More than anything."

Halron nodded. "You're just not used to making sacrifices."

"I..." He floundered, and took a nervous sip of wine. "I suppose you're right. Taela deserves a better father than me."

Halron took a sip of his own wine, and stared at his old friend. "...It's lucky that we're not our children's only influences. This trip will only make things better."

"Yes," Varmo said, brightening. "It's a good group. Your son, in particular, is just what she needs: someone who cares about what's right and wrong, who is... who is..." - he snapped his fingers - "...conscientious. And brave. Karis will be a good influence, too. A sincere, gentle, compassionate girl her own age... just what she needs. Then there's Theo's boy." He grimaced. "Takes after his father a bit too much, I think. All ideals and no sense. But he'll probably do Taela more good than harm, especially with the others as a moderating influence."

"Mmm. I hope you don't mind, but I see your Taela as useful in the same way." He chuckled lightly. "Rimeon's a good boy, better than good, but too uptight. He needs someone like Taela to get him to lighten up."

Varmo gazed into his glass. "It's as if, somewhere between the two of us, there's a decent person."

"You're not that bad," Halron said, raising his glass. "For one thing, you're generous with your wine. Besides, you've kept your vices under control. It's not as if being Minister of Decorum is the consummation of your ambition."

"That's not keeping my vices under control... It's just keeping them petty." He sighed. "But it wasn't fair of me to put you at my level. That adventure we had 20 years ago really changed you, for the better. For me, it just... made me more self-aware."

Halron grunted. "That's an improvement as far as I'm concerned."

"...If you say so. Let's hope my daughter can do at least two or three better than me."


	14. Chapter 14: Changing Tides

\- Chapter 14: Changing Tides -

Taking unscheduled audiences was never a requirement for a monarch. Nonetheless, most realized that the average, ordinary citizen did not have the time to schedule and keep appointments. One could generally satisfy the demands of one's compassion by holding open audiences once a week. This is precisely the practice Guardiana's most recent king had held to.

Queen Anri was different. She took pride in having open audiences daily. On most days only trivial concerns came before her, and there were even days where none came to seek an audience, but she held to the routine. It was her way of ensuring she served her people.

Of late, however, she had become weary of this daily labor. Her devotion to her subjects had not wavered, but her energy was not what it once was. Though she would not give up her self-imposed duty, she did allow herself the occasional day of relief from it. Especially when, as today, she had a scheduled audience to concern herself with. One which she didn't know what to expect from, at that.

"Lady May of Emild," she said as her visitor entered the chamber. "I cannot think of anyone I would less expect to visit my palace. For what purpose have you come here?"

If Lady May was ruffled by the coldness of this greeting, she did not show it. She paused to give an extra bow, then spoke in a tone that was soft, accommodating, and completely without hope of advancement for oneself. "Nothing as interesting as you might hope, Your Majesty. I've simply come seeking a position in your court."

Anri hadn't known what to expect from the kyantol, but she certainly hadn't expected this. "But that _is_ interesting," she remarked. "It is odd enough for _any_ foreigner to assume that she will be offered a position in the royal court. For you, who have famously committed high treason while a member of the Emild court, later attempted regicide in Cypress, and now been dismissed from the Emild court, to presume that she will be offered a chance to serve the royalty of another kingdom, is utmost peculiar."

Lady May gave a bow of her head. "If I have seemed to be presuming, I apologize. I have come here only in faith of your kindness, and for lack of anywhere else where I may be of use. But as to my history, I must correct Your Majesty somewhat. While the high treason and attempted regicide charges are true, at the time my will was completely subjugated to my god, Iom. As for my being dismissed from His Royal Majesty King Kay's court, that is in essence not accurate. I asked His Majesty for permission to leave, and it was only after much convincing that he gave it to me." She inclined her head towards a member of her escort, and he stepped forward to hand her a sheet of paper. After a word of thanks to him, Lady May held the paper out towards Queen Anri. "This is his letter of recommendation. You may read it at your leisure."

Utterly baffled now, Anri said, "I would like to read it now, if you have the patience."

"Certainly." Lady May gave another bow of her head.

Once Ken had brought the letter to her, Anri let her eyes fall upon it. It read:

"Your Most Glorious Majesty, Queen Anri of Guardiana, our dear friend and ally,

It is with strongest regret that I must release my lifelong servant, Lady May, from my service. She has warned me that dangerous times are once more in store for the court of Emild, and I cannot in good conscience require her to remain here.

It would be a great relief to me to know that she is employed at your wonderful court. I do not ask this as a favor, however, for Lady May is the most faithful and dutiful advisor one could ask for, and I am certain that she will not let herself be any less devoted to you than to the monarch of her homeland. You are no doubt aware of the acts Lady May committed while under Iom's influence nearly 20 years ago. I myself found it hard to trust her again, but her service to me since nearly the beginning of my reign has been invaluable, and left me with no doubt that her past misdeeds were truly not her own. King Nicholas will corroborate my opinion, I am sure.

Though I am pained at Lady May's departure, I rest assured that Emild's loss is your dearest Majesty's gain.

Sincerely,

King Kay"

It was Kay's handwriting. She recognized it beyond doubt.

She looked up. Lady May's face remained earnest but unmoved.

"Most illuminating. And these 'dangerous times' that Emild is to be visited by, to what does that refer?"

Lady May's face was no longer unmoved. Not entirely. The lines of her mouth drooped slightly. There was a look of regret in her eyes. "Your Majesty must know that Emild's court has been lacking in stability these past 25 years. We had all come to think that King Kay's reign was at last bringing that to an end. We were mistaken. The younger members of Emild's court aspire to seize power by taking advantage of King Kay's... weakness. His Royal Majesty is a good king, and the experience he sorely lacked when he took the crown has come to him through the years. But he has never completely got over the loss of his father and brother, nor completely let go of the feeling that he is merely a substitute for his brother."

"And you would abandon him to the mercy of his enemies?"

"If I could provide even the slightest aid to him, I would stay. But these upstarts were already in position to eliminate me from the picture. Here in Guardiana, I may at least be of service to you, Queen Anri."

"I see." Queen Anri performed a smile. It was a trick she had learned in the many years that had passed since she'd lost the ability to smile from the heart. "If that is the case, I see little reason not to take you into my service. And you can, I assume, provide me with further information on the situation in Emild? I would not want our friends to fall into evil hands, and the more I know of the problem, the better."

"I would be happy to do so, Your Majesty, at your convenience."

Anri nodded. "Very well, then. I will take a day or two to consider whether I can offer you a position here. Let that conclude this audience. Reese! Show Lady May to some temporary quarters."

Lady May bowed again with a murmur of thanks before she was escorted from the chamber. Queen Anri stood up from her throne, a light sigh of satisfaction brushing past her lips. She stepped down, hoping to retire to her own quarters for an hour.

Then Ruce spoke up. "Your Majesty, may I have a word with you in private?"

Anri glanced at him. "...Of course. In my study, then."

Anri's study was hardly ever used. For her, law was not to be written, but reviewed and proclaimed. Every decree that came from Anri emerged either from a meeting with her council or directly from her mouth. If it were simple enough to speak, she said it. If it were more complicated, she used the suggestions of her council. This practice was a break from the way her father had done things, and the way most rulers of Guardiana's neighbors continued to do things, but she did not care. Her way was her own, and to her mind, all the better.

Once inside her study, she allowed Ruce to close the door behind them, but did not sit down. "What is it, Ruce?"

"Are you seriously planning to give Lady May a post here?" Despite the wording, it was a straightforward, legitimate question, not rhetorical. She supposed he was considering that she might have only been feigning her approval of May's request.

"Yes, I am."

Ruce's mouth twitched. "I think you ought to reconsider. She may well have lied to you."

"That letter from King Kay is authentic, Ruce; I am certain of it. King Nicholas has vouched for her as well."

"It's not her freedom from Iom's influence that I'm doubting." His hand fiddled and lightly pulled on the ends of his beard. "It's her reason for leaving the court of Emild and coming here. Why not take up a position somewhere else in Emild?"

"She may be more attached to the atmosphere of a royal court than she is to her homeland."

"Maybe." He had a lock of his beard wrapped around his middle finger now. "But why Guardiana? King Nicholas freed her from Iom's influence, and apparently trusts her. Plus, she has lots of friends in Cypress. Why not go there, instead of to a bunch of strangers? Or why not Tyber? King Kay married into their royal line; he could be much more sure of getting her a position there."

Anri frowned. "Surely she could have personal reasons for dismissing those possibilities. One can imagine any number of such reasons."

"No doubt."

"So what do you suspect her of then, Ruce?" she said with a hint of exasperation.

"Nothing in particular." He pulled his hand free of his beard. "But I've learned to be on the lookout for when a person is probably lying, and May is probably lying. It could be a harmless lie, but it pays to be careful. We shouldn't have her in our court."

"I see." Anri tilted her head. "Perhaps you can eventually be the one to make that decision."

Ruce raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at, Your Majesty?"

She cast her eyes down. "Ruce, I'm too old to bear children now. It's time I declared an heir to my throne."

"Long past time," he nodded, startling Anri with his bluntness, though she did not let it show. "But you can't seriously be considering me?"

Anri looked directly into his eyes. "Why not? You clearly are gifted with insight and wisdom, you're familiar with all the workings of the court, you have strong opinions on governing Guardiana, and you're a hero to the people. Does that not make you the most qualified for the job?"

"You flatter me, Your Majesty. But I am a dwarf. You know that people are going to be upset as it is about your family line disappearing from the throne. Are you going to throw it in their faces by naming an heir who isn't even of the same species?"

"I don't think my people are as shallow as that."

To her consternation, Ruce chuckled. "Really? You know every single one of them?" Anri had no ready reply to such an insolent question, so he continued, "Look, I'm sure all the people you've known personally are perfectly open-minded. But as far as everyone else goes... you understand them on a certain level. But not at the deep level at which prejudices and blind spots lie."

"So what makes you think that _you_ do?"

He chuckled again. "You're right. I don't know everyone. But I have been about the country more than once, Your Majesty, and I've learned a few things about how important lineage is to both the common folk and the nobility. The nobility, especially." His face darkened. "I won't name any names, Your Majesty, because I think they're all essentially good, honest, useful gentlemen and ladies. But I know a few nobles who would, without a doubt, be infuriated if you put someone other than a human on the throne.

"And besides," he went on, changing his mode without missing a beat, "...there's no need to have this be a concern. You have better alternatives. Your cousin, Lady Ellen, seems quite capable."

She shook her head. "Not as capable as you. If I am to do my job as queen, I must choose the best heir possible."

"Lady Ellen _is_ the best heir. If you consider all the issues in their proper balance. Lady Ellen is a close enough approximation to your direct bloodline, she's well-liked, she knows the court, she already has good prospects for marriage, and she can do the job as well as it needs to be done."

"I _must_ choose the best heir possible," Anri repeated. "With my sponsorship, the people will come to like you and accept you as their future ruler. We cannot similarly endow Lady Ellen with your good qualities. You must accept the appointment, Ruce."

There was silence for a moment. Ruce blinked his eyes in a perplexing manner.

Then he gave a weary sigh. "Will you at least give it some more thought, Your Majesty? You don't want to deliver Guardiana to potential civil unrest without good cause."

"I will give it some more thought, Ruce. But you should as well. I know that being king of Guardiana is a frightening responsibility, but your lot in life is to accept such responsibilities when you are called to them. You are too capable to do otherwise."

"I'm not afraid of responsibility, Your Majesty. That's not what this is about." He put his hands in his pockets and made one of his grim smiles. "But you haven't given me a definite answer about Lady May. Will you take my advice?"

"I told the court that I shall give it more thought, and that is exactly what I shall do." Despite herself, her tone here became cold. It was not that she felt put out by Ruce. Coldness was not a choice for Anri, either conscious or subconscious. Rather, to instill her voice with any emotion at all was a constant effort. "I will say, however, that at the moment I see no sufficient reason not to appoint her. We could use someone with her talents, and it would be cruel to turn away someone under her unhappy circumstances."

"Fair enough." Ruce bowed. "Well, that's all I had to say, Your Majesty. If you'll excuse me...?"

* * *

Anri sat alone in her quarters. She had already changed into her nightgown, and was seated on her bed, but she could not convince her mind to retire just yet.

She thought about what Ruce had said. Most especially, his blunt observation of her delay in choosing an heir. Of course, that was just an extension of her delay in _produc__i__ng_ an heir. It was by her own doing that it came down to a matter of selection. Why, she pondered, had she persistently refused to consider marrying and having children? Her advisers, and even King Nicholas of Cypress, had certainly thrown enough prospects at her. Why had she been so stubborn?

She knew, of course, but the answer seemed insufficient now. She had to be loyal to _him_. She was past the age of childbearing now, but even if she could still give birth to an heir to the throne, she would not do it, for that would mean betraying her memory of him.

The sight of him still held firm before her if she closed her eyes. She beheld him gazing into her eyes, hand clasping hers with firm ardor, voice breathing her name, "Anri..."

The thrill of this potential wrong quaked her tall and sturdy frame. Such dalliance was a betrayal of her duty as heir to the throne. Every voice in her head sternly warned her not to do this.

But her heart would not be denied. To her servants, to her advisers, to her teachers, to her friends, she was Queen Anri and Your Majesty. To him alone, she was Anri.

Of course she had lived all her life knowing that she would one day be ruler of Guardiana. She had been trained into that role and accepted its myriad responsibilities. But she had imagined it would come when she was well into her thirties, or her late twenties at the very least, when she had already married and perhaps even borne children. Her father's untimely death had opened her eyes to the harsh reality of the royal lineage: She was Queen because her father had died. She would be expected to marry and bear children so that someone could take over when she died. And her children, too, would rule until they died.

There was nothing unnatural or unjust about it, but all the same, it horrified her. But even worse was when they all began calling her "Your Majesty". When she was a princess, there were still many who would call her "Anri" instead of "Your Highness", but no one was bold enough to address the Queen of Guardiana without the appellation. No one but him.

She wanted to go on being Anri, more than anything. She had known that she would one day be "Your Majesty", but it was too soon, and she was too young. When they spoke to her, she was Your Majesty, and nothing else about her was important or precious. When he spoke to her, she was Anri, and everything about her was important, and precious.

And so she had defied what the rest of the world demanded of her, and tilted her head to accept his kiss. And kissed him back.

Any exhilaration she might have felt at the rebellion, the liberation of the act paled against how the passion of it made her feel. The word "love" sprang to mind, but that word had been given altogether too broad a meaning; this love was nothing like the love she shared with her father, or the love she had once shared with her friends. This love was a burning desire to be one with her beloved, a desire to do all things in unison with him. It was not an uncommon love, but one wholly new to Anri. It felt like her life was beginning anew. And in that moment, she promised herself that she would never give herself in this way to any other man.

She supposed now that the promise may in fact have been motivated somewhat by her nagging sense of responsibility; after all, if she was promising herself wholly to him, then this could no longer be accused of being a dalliance. But the feeling behind it had been wholly sincere. She loved him, and had the chance ever come, would have married him. Through no fault of either of theirs, that chance had never come.

And now, because she had held true to that promise for 40 desolate years, her people would pay the price for it. Ruce may not have been right about everything, but he was right about at least one thing: his appointment as heir to the throne would not be met with universal approval. And Ellen, while a competent second choice, would not be a good ruler. Besides her merely average talent for the job, Ellen was self-centered, greedy, and generally without the moral fiber that Anri wanted out of her successor. No one could say what Anri's children would have been like, but it was certain that at least one of them would have been a better ruler than either Ruce or Ellen.

It had been foolish to keep waiting for him for so long. By now he was dead, or if he was alive, he had given up on trying to find her. Assuming he had ever truly loved her at all. At the time she was sure he did, but she was a naive young girl at the time; she lacked the wisdom to discern when a man regarded her as nothing more than another conquest.

But that thought, at least, had no bearing on her choice. If he had betrayed her, that was his sin; she would not betray him.

For forty lonely years now she had devoted herself wholly to her duty as queen. She had fulfilled her every responsibility, save the crucially important one of producing an heir. She could not break that promise to herself. Come what may, she could not bear to let that one last piece of Anri die.


	15. Chapter 15: Restless

\- Chapter 15: Restless -

Eli always found family dinners awkward. His mother's presence alone seemed to set a quiet, no-nonsense atmosphere to the table. Much as he loved his little brother, Dorian was at a surly age, and his two sisters were... well, girls. At Eli's age, girls were to be courted, not fraternized with, and it was difficult to know how he was supposed to relate to his sisters now that they had both developed into attractive young ladies. Ever since their breasts had come in, it felt wrong to even look at either of them.

So it probably said a lot about his relationship with his father that Judith was his conversationalist of choice for dinner. As they talked, he maintained a skillful dance with his eyes, keeping his gaze firmly enough in her general direction that there could never be any doubt it was her he was talking to, while never looking at her directly.

"So did you learn anything from ambassador Edwin?" he asked, looking at the wall behind her.

"Oh, yes," Judith said. "I've visited Iom enough times to know what it's like there, but I've never had the opportunity to size up one of their diplomats before. He's... Well, he doesn't seem very dedicated to his work, but -"

"You think that's just an act?"

"No, not that. I think he genuinely isn't that fixated on his job, but he does have a lot of... natural talent for it. He's likable. He makes you feel like he's your ally."

Eli nodded, more in the direction of the table than Judith. He was formulating a follow-up question, but he took too long about it, and apparently his father took that as the end of their conversation. "Eli," he said, loud such as to get his son's attention. "I'm told you've been struggling with your rural management lessons."

Eli turned and gave his father a shamefaced look. "A little," he allowed. "It's hard to understand how farms work when I've lived my whole life away from them."

"But important nonetheless," the king admonished. "Part of ruling is understanding how every part of the kingdom works."

"I know... Really, I've been trying, but I just can't understand it," he sighed, looking down at the table for a moment. Then his eyes raised to his father. "Maybe if you helped me study... You know this stuff, so you could explain it so that I can understand it."

The king shook his head, eyes riveted on the piece of meat he was cutting. "I'm too busy to be teaching you subjects you should know by now. Besides, your teacher is better qualified to help you understand the material." He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "If the problem is indeed that you've always lived outside a farm, perhaps your teacher should take you on a visit to one or two. What do you think, Mayfair?"

Mayfair looked at her son, and Eli could tell she was reading the uncomfortable look on his face. Her own expression remained unreadable, even as she turned to answer the king. "A very good idea, Nick. Experience is always the best teacher. In fact, if Eli wishes, I might like to go with him on this trip."

"Splendid." There was a pause, and Eli could see his father reconfiguring his face into a look of stern remonstrance. "Don't think this means that you are excused from putting effort into your studies, Eli. Seeing a farm may help, but you need to try to understand the material, or this is all wasted."

"I try," he objected. "I always try. You know that I've excelled in almost every subject."

"'Almost every' is not good enough. Not for a future king." Eli felt his stomach curl. His sisters were looking at him in vicarious embarrassment, but he did not feel their gaze half as much as his father's. "You're nearly 19 years old now. By that age, all of my family had been killed and I was forced to fight for Cypress's survival, and my own, by myself. However much importance you place on your studies, Eli, I assure you that it is not a fraction of the importance I found them to have in practice."

By the end of this speech, Eli was staring into his lap. Not out of shame, but because he didn't trust his face to not show his feelings. _Ha! There's a problem father never has._ Aloud, he said, "May I please be excused?"

His father considered for a moment, and his mother took that moment to cut in. "Yes, you're excused."

He realized, with some humiliation, that she had cut in because his father was going to deny him. But Eli was too glad of the chance to escape to dwell on that, or to reflect on how disappointed his father would be that such escape was necessary, that he could not better master his emotions. He got up and skulked out of the room. His Royal Protector, Farel, followed him.

Once they were clear of the dining room, he exploded, "Well, all of my family was killed at your age. Gods! Can't he make civil conversation at dinner time?"

Farel chuckled, but not without sympathy for Eli. "He really doesn't bother to keep his thoughts to himself when he's with his family. In a way, you know, maybe you should be flattered he opens up to you that much."

"Maybe I would be, if he hadn't just weaseled his way out of another chance to spend time with me."

"Well..." Farel scratched at his ear. "Don't get me wrong, but maybe you shouldn't be so concerned with your daddy paying attention to you anymore. I mean, like he said, you're almost 19 years old now..."

"So don't you think it's about time he paid attention to me at least once?" Eli retorted. "Just once! I'm expected to grow up to take his place, to be him... Is it too much to ask for him to show just the least bit of interest in me?" Farel didn't immediately respond, so he added, "It's different for you. Your father always loved you. You don't know what it's like, never being treated as anything more than someone who doesn't measure up."

"I never said your life was easy." His protector looked him firmly in the eye. "What I'm saying is, you're only hurting yourself this way. Your dad's never going to change for you. The longer you keep expecting him to..."

"Yeah." Eli broke away from his gaze, looking now only at the floor as his feet swiped across it. From this perspective, it looked like he was walking in place. Going nowhere. "Let's go pay a visit to Alisa."

"_You_ visit _her_? Isn't that -"

"Why not? Just because my father keeps people at a distance doesn't mean _I_ have to."

* * *

"This is silly," Farel remarked.

"Hand me the ladder," Eli said, for the second time.

"There's nothing stopping us from just knocking on the front door. Heck, Alisa's parents will probably be ecstatic that the heir to the throne is crazy enough about their daughter to pay her a late evening visit."

"I've had enough of being the heir to the throne for today. Hand me the ladder."

Farel sighed and did as he said. "I'm just saying, if anyone should see you sneaking into a girl's bedroom when all you had to do to pay a visit was _knock_..."

"Hey, what's life without a few risks?" he grinned, pushing the ladder upright, slowly, until it landed just beneath the desired windowsill. He put his foot on the first step, testing whether it would hold firm. "You know, my mom told me once that my dad was rather a rogue himself in his youth. Hard to believe, isn't it?"

"I'll say." But Farel's facial expression shifted as he took a supporting grip on the ladder's underside. "Though, you know... You had to have gotten it from somewhere..."

"Please don't take that thought any further." He began climbing up.

"Come on, you really think you can fool me? I know you admire your father."

Eli did not answer that. If there was one thing he agreed fully with his father about, it was the importance of focus. He had a goal in mind now, and it had nothing to do with either of his parents. He put them, along with everything else that was unconnected to his goal, out of his mind.

He reached Alisa's window, and looked in.

She was facing perpendicular to him, seated at a desk, writing something, wearing a simple white nightgown. Eli had not expected that she would have already gotten ready for bed, and he couldn't help but stare. It was not as though the nightgown were at all revealing; on the contrary, she looked rather like a devout acolyte. It was simply seeing her without the adornments, without the disguise one always wears in the presence of others.

She _was_ lovely. Natural in her poise, and simple of feature in a way that was elegant and pure. She had her long blond hair done up in a single braid. The plain, modest look of the braid was utterly unlike the flattering hairstyles he'd always seen her wearing before, yet was attractive in its own way. The curve of her jaw was irresistibly smooth, and perfectly clear from his perspective. And in a touch he found perfectly adorable, her eyes followed the movements of her pen as though it were some independent being in the process of deciding her fate.

Peering carefully, he saw that what she was writing on was a bound sheaf of papers. It seemed reasonable to conclude that she was writing in a diary. He had not known she kept one, and he liked this new fact about her. Putting down one's thoughts and experiences suggested a strong investment in the adventures of one's life. He wondered how much of her recent entries was about him, and what sort of things she wrote about him.

The thought that he could learn the answer to that simply by waiting for her to go to sleep and then sneaking inside did occur to him, but his morals were more than firm enough to not intentionally violate someone's privacy. That was not why he was here. Indeed, it took him but a few seconds to break off from his staring and knock at the window, though he had admittedly taken in quite a bit in those few seconds.

Alisa got a considerable start from his knock, but when she turned to see him at the window, she almost screamed in consternation. On some instinctive impulse, she backed up against the wall, went into a half crouch, and crossed her arms over her chest, as though the nightgown were exposing something more than her head and hands. Despite himself, Eli couldn't help but laugh at this.

Blushing furiously, Alisa stirred the courage to approach the window and fling it open. "What in the world are you doing here, Elijah!?" she hissed furiously.

"I came to visit you," he answered. "I'm very sorry I upset you. I had no idea you'd be all ready for bed at this hour. Honest." Despite the full sincerity of his words, he couldn't manage to make the grin leave his face.

She scowled. "Very well, I accept your apology for now. We'll discuss this further the next time I see you. Goodbye."

Eli at last managed to make the corners of his mouth droop a bit. "Come on, you can't send me off like that. After I came all the way down here, the least you can give me is the pleasure of your conversation for a few minutes." It was not at all a convincing argument, he knew, but it didn't need to be. He knew her well enough by now to ascertain that she didn't truly desire him to leave.

"I'm not... I'm not dressed or anything," she protested.

"And yet you're still the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on," he returned. He felt he was beginning to get into his groove now.

Alisa's eyes fell to the floor. "This is not seemly."

"Do your parents ever check in on you after you go to bed?"

"No. Now would you -"

"Then what are you worried about? With the secrets we've shared between us, I've already come to know far more private things about you than the interior of your room, and you know as much about me. The only thing that might be unseemly about my being here is if we were caught and presumed to have been engaged in less virtuous activities than we actually were, and as you've said, your parents won't be walking in on us. Well?"

The argument did not address the risk of someone overhearing them, but Eli felt reasonably sure that Alisa was as willing to take that risk as he was. She clearly took great pleasure in his company, and there was something irresistibly charming about one's sweetheart taking such risks simply to pay one a visit.

Alisa caved and stepped back to let him in.

He stepped over the threshold and hopped in. "Thank you," he said. "You don't know how I've been wanting to see you."

"Then... there's something wrong?" she pried.

He nodded. "But never mind that. I'd much rather talk about what you've been doing since I was last blessed with the sound of your voice."

"But I might be able to help." Her tone had a note of conviction to it.

Eli smiled and reached out to run his hand over her hair – lightly, so that he would not touch her skin. "Believe me, the best thing you can do to help is talk about something else."

She nodded, but had a preoccupied look, as though she were still pondering what might be troubling him. "I learned a new song."

"Your teachers must be proud."

"I don't think so." She smiled with mock wickedness. "It wasn't one of the songs they were teaching me."

"Oho! A bawdy folk tune, then? Or perhaps a drinking song?"

"No!" Alisa said, suppressing her normal light and gaily laughter into a giggle. Apparently she had not forgotten the danger of his being discovered. "It's just a ballad I heard many times as a child. I had to figure it out by ear – they don't realize that I can do that yet. I don't think they'd approve if they knew, either."

"Ah. So that's the mischief of it: how you learned the tune, not the tune itself."

"Yes. They think everything should always be done in the standard manner. It's tiresome." She shook her head in bemusement. "Anyway, it's a wonderful tune to play. I've even been composing some words for it."

"Wonderful! Can I hear you sing it sometime, then?"

She faltered. "...sing it...? But... I don't sing."

"Your speech already shows that you have a pleasing and dulcet voice, and I swear I shall be too won over by the favor of your singing to mind if you should happen to be off-key." He topped this little speech with a bow.

"Alright, alright." She smiled, in a manner that said she was as flattered as she was amused. "I'll sing you something if you like, but not that song."

"I want to hear that one. It's _your_ song."

"Well, the problem is... It's a love song."

He raised an eyebrow. "To me, I hope."

"No. It's not to anyone. It's just that the tune sounded like a love song, so that's the sort of words I wanted to write for it." She gave a helpless shrug. "I just... wouldn't feel comfortable singing it to you."

"Why not? Of all the songs a man could hear from his lady love, is not a -"

"Please don't joke like that," she said, and when his face showed his confusion, elaborated, "Calling me your lady love. It's not funny."

The romantic affectation dropped from his voice as Eli, in his own self, said, "But it's not a joke. You are my love."

He could see her trembling now. "No, you're teasing me. We haven't even been on a real date, and -"

"Does this feel like teasing?" he said, and leaned forward to kiss her mouth.

He was not as confident as he made himself sound, so he watched her face, ready to pull back at the first sign of rejection. Instead, she tilted her head and slightly opened her mouth.

They had kissed once before, but that was different. Then, they were mainly experimenting, seeing if they could manage it without hurting the other person, or themselves. This time, it was an expression of love. It felt right and honest, and pleasurable in a way that sank through every part of him. Alisa's response was ardent, and her arm around his neck pulled her to him with a strength he didn't know she had.

It wasn't long before they had to break for air. As they gazed into each other's eyes, he smiled with a certain vindication. He rather wondered why she had denied her passion for him when it took so little to bring it to the surface, but he had been right about her feelings and that was all that really mattered.

Then she deliberately looked away from him. "We have to stop this," she said weakly.

He smiled. "Alisa, nothing can stop this."

"I mean it," she said, more firmly now. "This isn't right. You're the heir to the throne, and I'm just a minor noble. You should be courting someone from the major families, or royalty."

"Is that all you're worried about? Before she married my father, my mother was of lower rank than you. She was just an archbishop's daughter."

"Eli, I'm sorry if this offends you, but I can't imagine your father married her out of love. He must have had his reasons for thinking she would be a worthy queen, and she is. Do you honestly think I will impress him even a fraction as much as she did?"

"I won't need my father's approval if we decide to marry. Damn it, look at me," he snapped, taking her by the chin and turning her head towards him.

"It's not just your parents I'm thinking of," she said. She was looking at him now, but he could see tears forming in her eyes. "Eli, you deserve someone higher born than me."

"Will you just forgot about our bloodlines? What we feel for each other is deeper than that, a hundred fold. Don't you remember how it was at the party where we first met? I had no idea whose daughter you were, and you had no idea whose son I was; all that mattered to you was the person I really am, inside."

Alisa mumbled something.

"What?"

She swallowed, then pronounced loudly, "I said I knew whose son you were."

He stared at her, an unpleasant feeling clenching at his heart. "What are you talking about?"

"My father pointed you out to me just a minute or two after we arrived. I didn't think I'd even get to meet you, but then you came up to me, and... You were just so sweet, and natural, and totally unconcerned with being the prince. I didn't want to take that away from you, so I didn't say anything about you being Prince Eli instead of just Eli. And by the time you told me, I... I was too fond of you; I didn't want you to think I'd only been interested in you because... of political reasons."

Eli realized that his hands were trembling. He took a step back from her. "So why did you tell me _now_?" he demanded. "To see if you could break my heart?"

"No! I just had to be honest with you now, because -"

"Liar," he said curtly, and walked back to the window. "I was just a game to you all along, wasn't it? You're too proud of your inconsequential role as a noble to even consider marrying upwards, but when I showed an interest in you, you thought you'd see if you could have the prince of the realm himself wrapped around your finger, before discarding him." He stepped out onto the ladder, still waiting for him. "Well, congratulations, lady Alisa -"

"Elijah! If you'd just let me explain -"

"...you've won. You plied your charms so well, I wouldn't be surprised if you could ensnare even my stonehearted father." He gave a toss of his head. "Let me extend my admiration to you for your truly magnificent performance. Farewell, and rest assured I will call upon you no more."

Tears were running all down Alisa's face by now, and at this last speech of his, she recoiled as though struck. She did it very convincingly; part of him ached to jump back inside, wipe away her tears, and beg for her to take him back.

But it was a small part, and the greater part refused to be fooled. Certainly he would never beg anyone for affection. Without hesitation, he climbed back down the ladder. Farel was waiting at the bottom, holding on to the ladder. "So, how was your little visit?"

"Illuminating," Eli answered.

"...Eli?"

"Yes?"

"You've got... tears on your face."

He ran a hand over his face. "Well, I'll be," he muttered. There were only a few drops worth.

"She's really gotten to you, huh?"

"She did. But it's over now."

"Oh."

Eli thought he could keep a lid on his emotions, but Farel, no doubt with good intentions, wasn't keeping the chatter going, and the quietude allowed those emotions to stir and bubble over. He exploded, "Damn it, why does everything have to be about my father? Why can't I have even one part of my life that isn't under his shadow?"

They walked in silence for a moment. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not right now, please." Right now, just the thought of Alisa made him want to break out weeping.

* * *

In the 20 years that had passed since they first met, Mayfair reflected, her relationship with Nick had gone through many changes. Yet one thing had remained reassuringly the same after all that time: they enjoyed each other's company. Indeed, now that her children were past the age of wanting to spend time with their mother, it almost felt as though Nick were the one true companion she had. And so she was pleased that he always invited her along for his morning rides. It was a pleasant way to spend time with just the two of them, as simple as that.

As they headed into the forests surrounding the town, Mayfair turned to him and said, "Nick, we need to talk about Eli."

"Ah," Nick said simply. Following her lead, he slowed his horse's pace. "I take it you think I didn't handle him well at dinner yesterday."

"It's more than that, I'm afraid." She sighed. "Nick, I'm worried that you just don't realize how much he craves your affection."

"If you're right, then the problem is not with me, but with him for being so childish. He should be striving for my respect, not my affection."

"I fully agree, but the problem remains. Eli very naturally desires for his father to love him, and when you make it a point to embarrass him the way you did yesterday, you hurt him in the worst way possible."

Nick frowned disapprovingly. "If he would only stay on top of his studies, there would be no need to embarrass him."

"Oh, Nick," she sighed, in a tone that did nothing to hide how hopeless he was. "Eli wants you to pay attention to Eli, not to the training of the heir to the throne."

For a minute Nick made no response, and the only sound was the clopping of their mounts' hooves. Mayfair knew him well enough to realize that he was thinking over what she had just said. "...I had thought, from the time that I decided to ask you to be my wife, that that would be your domain."

"A father's love cannot be given by a mother. Believe me, I've seen many children who were raised by a mother alone."

"I imagine they survived."

Mayfair gave a huff of remonstrance. "So you've lowered your aspirations for our son to mere survival?"

"That's not what I meant." He paused to reconsider. "I just don't see what makes one parent more special than the other."

"Men and women are different, Nick. To explain it more than that would take a lifetime."

He nodded. "Very well. But I think you've gotten away from the reason why I have left the emotional care of our children to you. How can I give Eli something I don't have?"

She straightened up in the saddle. "At the least, you should have a talk with him about your feelings for him. I know you're not a man of strong emotions, love least of all, but I really think that if you were to ever lose Eli, it _would_ hurt you. It would do him good to know things like that."

"Your reasoning is flawed. If he desires my affection as much as you say, he must think me capable of more love than I am in reality. To disillusion him on that matter would only hurt him."

"Nick..." She considered a moment how she might succinctly explain why being candid with his son could only help, then gave up on it. "You concur that I am wiser than you when it comes to parenting, don't you?"

"...Of course." The brief hesitation, she recognized, came not out of doubt of the answer, but doubt as to whether he should admit it.

"Then talk to him. So long as you keep the conversation to you and him, away from kingship and responsibilities, I promise that he will thank you for it."

He nodded. "If you are truly certain that you will not end up later reprimanding me for what I say, then I will talk to him."

"Thank you."

There was a silence, the calm of an issue resolved.

The calm was broken by Nick throwing his arm across her chest, prompting her to bring her mount to a halt. A small black something popped out of the undergrowth and landed just two or three feet in front of their horses. It was roughly the size of a frog, but its movement was clearly not of something which had jumped, but something which had been _tossed_.

An ordinary man would have taken no notice and gone on riding, but Nick was as alert as ever, Mayfair noted. "What is that?" she asked.

Then the world seemed to erupt. Out from the small black object came what looked like a Spark spell, but it went out in all directions. Mayfair briefly heard Nick cry out in shock and pain, and then awareness was snatched away from her.

* * *

"You see?" Valeria said as they emerged from the undergrowth. "For all their sophistication, leadership abilities, and combat experience, King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair were completely unprepared for the most simple technology. No muss, no fuss."

Samson humphed, picking up the expended shock grenade. "I still say using these frivolously is a waste, until we can manufacture them ourselves. There are only eight of those in existence – seven, now – and if we use them all, they're _gone_. We could have just ambushed them the usual way, with arrows and steel."

"We could have." She tossed her head, shaking loose some of the leaves and twigs from her light red hair. "But the king and queen of Cypress are wielders of magics. Not as adept as this land's most powerful wizards and witches, but enough that they would have almost certainly slain some of our own had we followed your suggestion."

"Our commander has given us plenty of men."

"And none of them are expendable," Valeria returned.

Samson's eyes studied her briefly even as he tended to the fallen king and queen, binding their wrists. "I think you'll find that once this is all underway, we'll have no choice but to suffer a few casualties."

"No doubt. But I intend to keep them as few as possible."

She gave a whistle, and after a few moments, a dozen soldiers rode forward. Without ado, they gathered up King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair and laid them on their mounts, and the party departed.


	16. Chapter 16: Saul's Robe

\- Chapter 16: Saul's Robe -

"What is the meaning of this?" King Amelo demanded, standing up from his throne. "Guards! Escort these... children out of here until they have an appointment for an audience!"

"Sit down, Your Majesty," Hindel said calmly. When Amelo gave his order, only Hindel and the rest of the Shining Force had entered the throne room, but now a number of royal guards were pouring in to stand beside them. This made the guards already in the room hesitate. "Your guards aren't going to stand in the way of the Cloud of Iom, not for the sake of a monarch who conspired against his – or her – own people."

Amelo remained standing. "What nonsense are you talking about?"

"You sound like you genuinely don't know. I hope that's true." He noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Redgar, Adorn, and a couple of the guards were leveling their weapons in the direction of the king and queen. He waved them down. "We just came from Rebora, where my ministry was interrupted by a man who tried to deceive people into turning their backs on Iom using illusions. When that failed, he had a squadron of archers open fire on them." He'd been keeping watch on the royal family's faces and noted that while Amelo and Yurligi showed only confusion at this statement, Gillian let slip a brief flash of anger. "We did our best to stop them, and some would say we succeeded, but several innocent lives were lost."

"Regrettable, if true." A faint sneer appeared on Amelo's face as he finally sat down. "But since no independent messengers have come to inform me of this, you'll forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

He nodded. "Messengers will be along with the news in a day or two, but we got a head start on them using magic. We've been joined by a mage who just recently came from this castle, so he was able to use Egress to take us in this direction." Hindel turned to the back of his group and motioned for Kellen to come forward. "I'm sure you remember this member of your court."

As King Amelo peered at the mage, his face wrinkled with a slight blush of consternation. Under less grave circumstances, it would have been cute. "I'm sorry... I feel I've seen your face before, but..."

"His name is Kellen," Queen Gillian said, coming to his rescue. "He's one of our top mages."

"Yes, of course." He looked back to Hindel. "But as I've said, I see no reason to take your word on this."

"You don't have to. Ask your queen. After all, Kellen was casting those illusions in Rebora by her orders."

Amelo looked at his wife in dismay. "Gillian... you didn't..."

She smiled with perfect innocence. "I confess that I don't quite understand all this, my husband. Kellen seems to be accusing me of something, but I'm not following what it is, or why we should believe him when he's clearly a follower of the same man who recently defied your orders."

"Your Majesty, please," Hindel said, teeth clenched with impatience born of righteous anger. "We're not interested in your lies, or in disproving them. All we want is assurance that from here on out both of you will be loyal to Iom and his people."

Amelo shot to his feet. "How dare you accuse Gillian of lying and disloyalty! I'll -"

"Sit down, Your Majesty," Hindel said, while Redgar and Adorn again leveled their weapons. "You don't seem aware of the situation. You lost a lot of support when word of what happened the last time I was here got around. You lost a lot more once we informed people that the royal family was involved with what happened in Rebora. Many people believe you are innocent of that, and are ready to fight to defend you. Many people aren't so trusting, and want you punished. And many, like myself, feel that your defiance of Iom's will makes you a grave threat to our nation." He paused, and held his arms out to his sides with palms open. "It's out of my hands at this point. If you continue to oppose Iom, no matter what I do, there will be civil war. Too many people now follow Iom for there to be any other outcome."

"I proved my devotion to Iom on the day I was crowned," Amelo returned, but he was trembling the same way he had when he and Hindel first met, and he returned to his seat just as Hindel told him to. "I killed a young boy for him with my own hands!"

"Only because the law at that time required you to," Hindel sighed, irritated that Amelo was making him point out things that were obvious to everyone present. "A law you've since changed."

"It was your own parents who proposed the repeal of that law!"

"I'm not my parents. And the point remains that you haven't yet proved your loyalty to Iom."

Amelo cast a glance at Gillian, but her gaze remained fixed upon Hindel. He ventured, "What do you suggest?"

"Two things. First, you have not yet apologized to Iom. Do so, publicly. Second," Hindel swallowed, "...appoint me general of the Iom army."

Amelo peered at him a moment, then let out an involuntary chuckle. "But... you're a priest," he managed.

"My parents trained me extensively in the art of strategy and war, and will vouch for me if need be. And I lead the Shining Force against the conspirators in Rebora. That isn't much, but it's still more practical experience than all but a few of the army's officers these days. Besides, General Bernard is long overdue for retirement. You've kept him on only because Iom is at peace. That won't last."

"...And why is that?"

"Because of the people your queen conspired with." Hindel gave him a look. "You didn't really think they'd stop now, when they were willing to murder dozens of people in Rebora just to make a point?"

"Then you're only speculating," Gillian objected, but her face had already gone deathly pale.

"No. Iom has seen their warships coming. He has seen their diplomats earning the favor of foreign officials and rulers, just as they earned Your Majesty's favor." Hindel's voice rang with both the certain tones of a prophet and the youthful timbre of a young man who had hardly seen anything outside his hometown. He wondered whether those present would recognize him as the one or dismiss him as the other, but he had no choice but to press on. "Do you understand? Unless we strike first, it will be the world against Iom. King Nicholas and King Saul have been waiting for an opportunity like this."

Amelo leaned forward, "How do you mean, 'strike first'?"

"Follow my two suggestions, and you'll find out."

"You can't expect me to just blindly put you in charge of our army without knowing your intentions!"

Hindel glared, and Amelo sank back into his seat. "It is not your place to set conditions for your god. You are either loyal to him, or you are not. It makes no sense to say, 'I am loyal to Iom, but only so long as he doesn't ask me to do anything I don't already want to do."

"It's not about what I want," Amelo protested. "The good of my people is at stake."

For the first time, Hindel smiled at his king with sincere fondness. "Our people can be in no better hands than those of their god."

There was a silence in the room. Several of Hindel's followers, and even one or two people on the king's side of the room, bowed their heads in reverence at Hindel's words. Hindel watched the king, seeing in his eyes the final realization of how much his people had come to support Iom over the past week, the recognition that anything he said against his god now would be seen as an act of patent stubbornness and obsession with power. Amelo turned to look at his queen again. She looked like nothing so much as a little girl surrounded by strangers, but she gave Amelo a steady nod.

"Very well," the king said. "I agree to your suggestions."

* * *

As Hindel's group entered the hall, his shoulders relaxed, and his gaze lowered to the floor.

"Are you alright, lad?" Alric asked.

He nodded. "I'm fine. It's just... that took a lot out of me." He idly noted the curious looks on his friends' faces as he explained, "This time, Iom wasn't giving me the words to say. He told me before we came here that I was to demand an appointment as general of Iom, but the rest he left up to me. No instructions. I just had to decide what to say for myself." Their looks turned from curious to worried. "It's not what you're thinking. Iom hasn't abandoned me. He was with me the whole time, giving me strength. I know that our god is still with me. I'm just... confused that he would leave me to make my own decisions at this crucial time."

Alric looked at him with warmth. "Yes. The ways of Iom can be confusing. But so long as we never lose faith, they'll serve us well in the end."

"Yes, I know. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." He turned to face his followers. "I'm going to retire for the afternoon. There's a room in the palace set aside for any of my family that are visiting the capital; I think I'll stay there. Alric, if you'd like, I'd be happy to return the hospitality you gave me when I stayed at your home. Those of you who are guards here, stay in your usual rooms. The rest of you, there should be several unoccupied guest rooms in the palace. If anyone questions you about taking them, let them know you're with me. If they don't believe you, let me know and I'll deal with it right away. We'll meet again in the morning; I'll let you know then what we'll be doing while we wait for King Amelo to appoint me general. Any questions?"

Adorn raised her hand. "What are you going to do about the people who fired upon the crowd?"

"I'm not sure yet. We might be able to persuade the king or queen to give us information on them, but they might well know nothing more than Kellen does. I'm going to ask Iom for guidance. I know he won't leave us to solve a problem of this magnitude ourselves."

"But what if Iom _can't_ help?" she pressed.

He smiled at that. "It's hard to explain, but I have reason to believe that Iom bestowed his power on me to deal with this very problem. He wouldn't have done that if he couldn't help."

Adorn nodded, satisfied for the moment. With apparently no more questions, they all bid each other fond farewells and dispersed. All save Nancie, who quietly followed Hindel down the hall towards his quarters.

He waited for her to say something, but she was silent until they were out of earshot of the others. "Time for my favorite question again," she said, with the nervous grin of someone who knows they aren't very funny but has to make a joke anyway. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. When I said I'm sure Iom hasn't abandoned me, I meant it."

"I didn't mean that. It's... It's something I've wanted to ask you since we left Rebora. Back there, you killed a whole bunch of people."

"They were murderers," he said, more sharply than he intended. "Who would have murdered more people if I hadn't stopped them the quickest way I knew how."

"I know that. ...Sorry; I'm having trouble saying what I mean. You got so upset when you found out you'd killed that madman who violated the shrine, and you told me how you thought it was wrong to kill people for any reason, unless you're sacrificing them to Iom. So, I thought... You might be upset that you had to do it again."

Hindel was again amazed at Nancie, at how wonderfully sympathizing she was. She saw only right in his killing those evil men in Rebora, but she understood and anticipated his feelings of guilt at that deed.

He managed, "No, it's... it's okay, actually." She looked at him doubtfully. "I know what I said to you before about any killing being wrong, and I really meant it then. It's a belief I held all my life. And I think the only reason I killed those men so readily was because I was fully in Iom form. Like Iom warned me, having my head transformed affected my mind, so I didn't even give a second's thought to doing whatever Iom wanted."

"So... you're saying you realize now that it's what Iom wanted, and -"

"No, no. I don't think it's okay for me to do anything so long as it's Iom's will. But once I did it, once I killed them, I started to realize... Saying that any and all killing is wrong was such an easy belief to subscribe to. It was easy to stay true to it, because I'd never _wanted_ to kill anyone. I could tell myself I had a strong moral conviction, all the while thinking, deep down, that I'd never have that conviction tested. I was a hypocrite. And now that my conviction has been tested, and failed, I realize..." He swallowed. "I realize I did the right thing. I saw there were innocent lives in danger, and instead of letting them die just so I could keep my own hands clean, I saved them. I made the best decision I could with the choices I had, instead of just blindly sticking to a rule I made up just to feel good about myself. Whether or not my hands are stained with blood isn't the most important thing. The most important thing is that as many people as possible are saved."

Nancie smiled at him. "If that's the most important thing to you, then Iom obviously made the right choice."

"I don't know about that." He stopped there, and she did not press him for more. He didn't continue until they had reached his room and he had closed the door behind them. "Nancie, I'll be honest with you... I'm scared. I was so happy when I first found out I was Iom's chosen servant, but now... I didn't know it was going to be like this."

"So the killing did get to you, then?" she said, looking a bit confused.

"No, not that, it's..." He took a breath. "I'm sorry. I guess... I'm going too fast. Back in the throne room, at one point, I... I wanted to kill King Amelo. I was just so angry at him for letting all those people die on his watch, and for trying to sweep Iom worship under a rug, I just... I wanted to kill him."

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "We all get angry sometimes."

"That's not the scary part. The scary part is, Iom would have let me do it. I could feel it through our bond. It wouldn't have mattered to him whether I killed King Amelo or not."

"So why didn't you?"

He glared at her. "You wanted me to?"

Nancie didn't flinch. "I'm just trying to help you not be scared. I think things are less scary when you know what you want and don't want, and why. What happened in Rebora was by far the scariest thing that ever happened to me, but I wasn't afraid because I knew that I wanted to help those people. You don't have to answer me. Just answer yourself: Why didn't you kill him?"

"I..." Hindel swallowed, wishing that he didn't have to answer questions about prospectively killing anyone. "...I guess just because... he's our king. That may not be as important as Iom's will, but it's not something we can just forget about, either. We're supposed to be loyal to him, and love him, even if we can't excuse some of the things he does. Besides, I think he can change. Even if he opposes me and Iom, he sincerely wants the best for his people. Queen Gillian, too."

"I think you may be right."

"But that doesn't change the most important things," he sighed. "If even the death of the king is of such little importance to Iom, then the role he's set for me must be even bigger than I thought. On top of that, I can only think of one reason why it would be so important for me to be appointed general: We have to go to war. I... I don't know if I can handle all this."

"Of course you can!" She fervently clasped Hindel's arm, startling him. "Just look at your followers, all the people who joined you in Rebora, and since then. We all believe in you! And you probably think that's just because you have Iom's power, but it's not. You have something special, the power to command people's faith. I know it. More importantly, Iom knows it. He wouldn't have chosen you otherwise." She gave his arm a squeeze. "You're our hope. So long as you keep on being yourself, we'll all support you."

He smiled at her in gratitude. He only wished he could draw more than partial reassurance from her words. She was right that he shouldn't fear failing in the task Iom had set for him. But he still feared something else. It was now clear that the lives or deaths of hundreds if not thousands of people, the destinies of nations, lay within his hands, not Iom's. Their fate would be decided by his choices.

What if he made the wrong choice?

"Thanks," he said. "But if you don't mind, I think I'd like to be alone right now. I want to pray to Iom for guidance for a few hours. I still feel like there must be some piece of guidance he's willing to give me that I haven't heard yet."

Nancie's eyes brightened. "Hey, that's a good idea. We've been so busy dealing with what happened in Rebora, we haven't really taken the time to pray lately." She turned and waved him goodbye. "I think I'll try praying, too. You never know."

Hindel returned her wave, and for a moment he was again struck by Nancie's simple loveliness, the gentle curves of her figure. And she had a certain innocence, a simple unquestioning trust in Iom that he feared he might be losing. That, apart from everything else, was reason enough for him to turn to prayer now.

* * *

"'You can see for yourself that just now in the cave the Lord put you in my power. Some of my men told me to kill you, but I felt sorry for you and said that I would not harm you in the least, because you are the one whom the Lord chose to be king. Look, my father, look at the piece of your robe I am holding! I could have killed you, but instead I only cut this off. This should convince you that I have no thought of rebelling against you or harming you. You are hunting me down to kill me, even though I have not done you any wrong.'"

\- 1 Samuel 24: 10-11, Today's English Version


	17. Chapter 17: The Men in My Life

\- Chapter 17: The Men in My Life -

Once they were outside the throne room, Amelo seized Gillian by her right arm and pulled her along with him. She gasped, half-tripping as she was borne down the hall by his longer stride.

"Might I have a few words with you in private, my queen?" His voice was natural and polite, but his eyes stared coldly ahead.

With an effort, Gillian regained the rhythm of her feet and quickened her pace to keep up with Amelo. "Anytime you wish," she answered, in a voice equally natural and polite.

He led her to their private quarters. Once they were inside, and once he had closed the door behind them, he shoved her forward, which wrenched her arm in his grip. She let out a cry of pain.

"Knock that off," Amelo snapped. "You may be a delicate little flower in the people's eyes, but you and I both know you're stronger than that. I want the truth: Did you arrange for men to fire upon our people?"

She stared at him in shock. "You believe Hindel and his followers over me?"

"Messengers will be along shortly to confirm or deny what happened in Rebora, so Hindel has nothing to gain by inventing that. I know you were talking to people with plans to stop Hindel. So only one piece is missing: Were the people you talked to the same ones who were in Rebora? I'd like to believe no, but that would leave us with truly remarkable coincidences and unanswered questions, especially with Kellen's testimony. So..."

"Enough!" she burst out, her hands clenched into tiny little fists. "Yes! I ordered Kellen to help them stop Hindel! Did it ever occur to you that they might have done things that weren't a part of my orders?"

"If there were the least risk of that, you shouldn't have collaborated with them. It's your responsibility." His face snarled. "Instead you let me take the blame for your actions!"

"Me?! No one would be blaming either of us if you hadn't practically blurted out the whole thing when Hindel accused me! Anyone who saw that is going to be convinced I orchestrated what happened in Rebora!"

"Oh, don't underplay your talent for deception," Amelo sneered. "You put on quite a good innocent act there, not that most people would see you as anything but innocent. I was even impulsive enough to defend you before I'd thought things through. At best, people will be in doubt as to whether you or I are the guilty party. No one will assume me innocent."

"Alright... alright," Gillian managed. She had turned her face away from him, unable to bear the rage in his eyes, but he could still see she was crying slow tears down her cheeks. He suddenly felt unbearably cruel. "I didn't want anyone hurt. I told them not to hurt anyone. And I just can't stand the thought of our people not -" - she drew in a sob - "...not trusting me anymore... especially not because of something someone else did. ...But you're right. You shouldn't be forced to shoulder the blame. I'll call an assembly, and tell them the whole truth."

At her voice, her words, the sight of tears running down her sweet face, Amelo's heart melted. "No," he said, reaching a hand up to brush a tear from her cheek. "No, that would not be good for Iom. The people adore you, and to so stain the flower of the nation would take away one of their strongest sources of pride. I will tell the people it was me who conspired with Hindel's enemies. We can easily persuade Hindel to go along with that story."

Gillian looked up at him and smiled sadly. "Oh, Amelo... That's sweet of you to say, but you know you can't. It would completely change how people see you, and you're the king."

"Most of them dislike me already. Your reputation is far more spotless than mine. Besides," he said, bringing his hand around to lightly hold her chin, "...it's like you said: We're a team. If it weren't for your guidance, the people would have come to hate me long before now. If one of us must take the blow for this, it's only fair that it be me."

"...Thank you," she whispered, and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

He felt odd in his chest. It was something he'd felt before with Gillian, and always before he'd swallowed it and done nothing.

Not this time. For once, he was on top; he'd saved her, not the other way around.

He bent his head down, towards her face. She looked back at him with faint worry, uncertain what he was doing. He kept pushing forward until his lips were pressed against hers. He closed his eyes.

It lasted just a couple seconds. With his eyes closed, Amelo couldn't tell if Gillian had pulled away or he'd just fumbled it, but their lips were no longer in contact. His eyes opened.

Gillian's eyes were directed in the approximate area of his stomach. For a moment, she had the same expression on her face as when she received the news of what had happened at Hindel's initiation. Then she looked up at him and smiled the same warm idealistic smile he'd fallen in love with when he was ten.

Amelo didn't know what to say. So Gillian broke the silence. "I'll arrange for the assembly to be held a week from now, so the messengers from Rebora have plenty of time to get here. You know, just in case Hindel was lying. If we don't hear from them, then instead of you confessing, apologizing, and appointing Hindel as Iom's general, you can denounce him as a fraud." She gave him a warning look. "But I wouldn't consider that likely. I'll see you later, okay?"

He still didn't know what to say, or even whether he should be happy or embarrassed at having kissed Gillian, so he just watched in silence as she walked away.

Gillian, on the other hand, was struggling to contain how perfectly furious she felt. The deaths of innocent Iomites at the hands of her allies was, by itself, enough to make her want to see Silas torn limb from limb. The resulting humiliation before Hindel in the throne room, the need to appoint him general against her will, the distasteful ordeal of manipulating poor Amelo into taking the blame, and lastly, the indignity of being kissed by him. Kissed by her own... her own...

Well, her own husband. It was odd, perhaps, but apart from actual blood relations, there was no one it would be any more taboo for her to have romantic relations with. _And for pity's sake, I used to be charged with looking after him! What a perfect brat he was at that age, too._

She'd suspected that Amelo was attracted to her for some time now, and had been careful to avoid leaving any opening for him to express those feelings; sooner or later, the poor boy was bound to grow weary of pining after her in silence. Now, thanks to Silas, all that was ruined.

She began contemplating some way of extinguishing Amelo's romantic flame without making him feel like she was rejecting him. But that line of thought was cut off by a hand falling on her shoulder and a voice speaking into her ear, "Why were you kissing him?"

She spun around and gasped, "Ivo!"

"Why were you kissing him?" he repeated.

Gillian scowled and yanked his hand off her shoulder. She was _not_ in the mood for this. "I did not kiss him. _He_ kissed_ me_."

His eyes narrowed in a manner which, on any other day, she would have found adorable. "And you didn't kiss him back? That's not how it looked to me."

"Oh, use your head, Ivo! Amelo and I have to work together to rule this entire nation. What could be worse for that than for me to openly spurn his affections?"

"And why would he be so affectionate in the first place, unless you'd given him reason to believe you would welcome it?"

That was enough. She slapped him with all her strength. "Do you have ANY idea what kind of day I've been having?!" She felt tears or frustration bubbling in her eyes. "A priest of Iom just walked in and held me responsible for archers firing upon a crowd of innocent people! I had to manipulate one of my best friends into taking the blame for me! Now you're coming to me with jealousy issues? For pity's sake, Ivo, you're my chosen concubine! We have children together! What more do you want from me?"

"I want us to be married," he said fiercely, the side of his face still red from her slap. "I want you to sleep with me every night, without you sharing a bedroom with that pampered dark elf every other night just to keep up appearances. I want you to tell the people that you're in love with me and no one else. I want our children to be treated as true royalty, and not as slightly polished bastards!"

"Ivo!" she hissed in reprimand.

"Alright," he said as a sort of mild apology. "But can you really not understand how frustrating it is for me not to be married to you?"

"Of course I understand. It's the same for me as it is for you. I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you. But I _can't_ marry you. That's just a fantasy."

He shook his head. "It's not right that you're married to him instead of me."

"It's perfectly right," she returned, touching his face in a warm caress. "The world isn't designed to fulfill lovers' every little whim. You and I, we're incredibly lucky. You return my love, and I return yours. Our families, and our society, allow us to be together without shame or dishonor. We've been blessed with children. And though I'm married to another man, I'm not required to share my body with him. ...Be grateful for what we have." She kissed him on the mouth. "I am."

He stared at her for a minute, with a profound adoration that was so similar to Amelo's, but where Amelo was in so many ways still a boy, Ivo was unmistakably a man.

Then he shook his head. "I wish I could be as philosophical about this as you." He kissed her ear, then said softly into it, "I'm sorry, my love."

"Me, too."

With a promise to see him and the children later, she left Ivo and resumed her course to her study. She needed to think this through, on her own, before she even thought about consulting with her ministers.

Ivo, for all his frustration, would always stand by her. As for Amelo, if he should ever go so far as to press her for sex, having to rebuff him would be moderately unpleasant but hardly a catastrophe for anyone. Hindel was the real problem; she didn't doubt his ability as a potential general, but Iom wouldn't want him to take that post unless he was planning something, presumably a military offensive. And with Hindel's apparent charisma, her political power as queen would likely not be enough to prevent war. Sir Edwin had taught her how to manage a war, of course, but Iom's army might not be up to the sort of task their god would burden them with. And in any event, a war would be disastrous to the diplomatic standing she and her ambassadors had been building since her reign began.

She took out a key, unlocked the door to her study, and opened it. She stepped inside.

And on top of all that, she also had to worry about -

"You!" she gasped when, hearing a noise, she looked behind her to see Silas standing there.

He closed the door behind him. "I gather from the look on your face that Hindel managed to get here before me."

It struck Gillian how dangerous her position was, especially since, unlike their previous meetings, she had no guards positioned within calling distance. Anger gave way to fear, but she pushed both emotions beneath the surface. "Indeed. You'll forgive me if I'm a bit displeased to see he's not as discredited as you promised."

"Oh, don't play coy." He sauntered over to her and leaned in close to her face. "Hindel must have told you about the violence in Rebora."

Despite herself, Gillian looked away. "Should I believe him?"

"Should you? A good question." She risked a glance at the human. He was smiling now, in an infuriatingly self-assured manner. "But I think we should cut to the chase. In this instance, Hindel told the truth."

She quickly looked away again to hide her rage.

"You know, you look like a woman whose lover is lavishing attention on another woman. It's quite adorable. Mainly because it's inconceivable that any man would pay attention to another woman while you're in the room."

To her horror, Gillian felt herself blushing at the remark. _Damn it! Where is your usual control of your emotions, Gillian? And at such a cheap line, too, from a man who is obviously mocking you._ "I warned you not to harm my people," she snapped, without thinking.

"Yes. But it wasn't me." He gave a frustrated sigh. "One of my men, Marcus, was entrusted with the operation. He defied my orders in doing this."

"You put him in charge, so you are responsible," she retorted.

"Then," he said, his eyes studying her in a manner that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable, "so are you."

"Why are you here?" she said, to keep that line of thought from going further.

He leaned back against a wall, in that cavalier manner of his which was at once so infuriating and so charming. "Isn't it obvious? The situation with Hindel has taken a turn for the worse. We need to discuss taking more serious measures."

"More serious than firing on a crowd of innocent people?" She knew she should be playing along with him until she had a guard or two at hand, but she couldn't help herself.

"More serious than the illusions you and I approved. I think it would be best to target Hindel himself, rather than potential believers."

Gillian folded her arms. "Did you have anything specific in mind?"

He nodded. "His close disciples are his weak point, I believe. If you could tell me how to find at least one of them, we can handle the rest."

"So it's to be more killing, then."

"I didn't say that."

"Well, then you're telling me your plan is to sit down and reason with them?" 

"That idea is not without -"

Gillian darted for the door, which was still less than five feet away. But as her hand was turning the knob, another hand clamped upon her wrist, stopping her.

"Where are you going, my lady?" His voice was amused.

"Unhand me," she snapped.

He instead grabbed her other arm. "You are the one being rude, leaving right in the middle of a conversation."

"Kill me if you've the nerve," she said, her lips starting to tremble. "But if you don't let go of me now, I'll scream, and whether I am alive or not when the guards arrive, you won't escape."

"Kill you?" Now he seemed genuinely baffled. "Why would I do anything like that?"

"To keep me from doing what I swore I would do if any of my people were killed."

"My lady -"

"My title is 'Your Majesty'."

"My lady, you are this nation's best hope for sanity against Hindel's fanatical cult. If it came to that, I would gladly let you bury a sacrificial dagger in my heart rather than bring you the least harm. I'd consider it an honor to die for a bastion of goodness like yourself, all the more so if I should receive my fate from your fair hands. But this is irrelevant. You wouldn't kill me."

Again, she knew she should play along. But his damned smug confidence drove her to reply sharply, "What makes you think that?"

He still had her firmly grasped by the wrist and upper arm. He suddenly pulled her against him and silenced her cry by covering her mouth with his. While she was still trying to process what was happening, his tongue invaded her mouth.

Gillian could not remember ever having felt so offended. For anyone to take such liberties with her was an unspeakable indignation; she was the queen of Iom! And that this foul liar should presume that he had won her affections... it was enough to make her quiver with fury. The fact that he was of a different species made it even more obscene.

Yet she was aware that she was not even trying to push him away, that the hand with which she gripped his shoulder was in fact being used to pull herself more firmly against him. She wanted to tell herself that she was just playing along, but knew that was not the case. Whatever it was that was happening to her, it was pleasurable.

When they broke, Gillian planned to have some clever words ready for him, something to bolster his belief that she had fallen for him. She found she could only stare at him, as though hypnotized by the fury he had aroused in her.

"I think that makes it pretty clear why you wouldn't harm me," Silas smiled. "Or let harm come to me. You realize, don't you, that my subordinates and I are duty bound to stop Hindel or die trying?"

She nodded mutely. She wasn't fool enough to take his word on anything, but his passion for his cause was plainly sincere. That he had risked coming back here was by itself strong evidence of that.

"Then you must help us stop him. Tell me how to find his disciples."

For a moment she was silent, trying to think if there was a better way. Then she said, "I'll find out. Meet me here tomorrow. Same time."

He nodded, then leaned forward to kiss her cheek. She didn't move; she did not trust herself to. He whispered in her ear, "You've made the right choice for your country, my lady. Once the barbarism of Iom worship is cleared away, things will be much better. With my people's help, it may even be possible one day for you to marry your beloved concubine... and perhaps take a concubine of a different species, if you so wish."

Gillian did not trust herself to move again until after Silas had gone.


	18. Chapter 18: Emergency Protocol

\- Chapter 18: Emergency Protocol -

As Eli tugged his pants on, the pounding only grew louder. "Very well," he groaned. "Very well! I'm coming, aren't I?" He stumbled towards the door whilst yanking a shirt over his head.

The pounding did not relent until he seized the door and pulled it open. "Gods! What's so important that you needed to drag me out of bed, Gyan?"

Gyan quirked an eye. "You do realize you ought to be up by now anyway, don't you?"

"I didn't sleep well last night."

"Bad luck. You'll need all your wits about you now. Your parents didn't come back from their morning ride."

Eli peered at him. "Is this another of father's tests?"

"'Fraid not. If Nick did something like that, you might do something disastrous in your few hours as acting king. He wouldn't take a risk like that." He did a partial bow. "Your orders?"

"My... orders...?" Eli was all but speechless. Surely, this couldn't be happening. "Why do you need my orders? Can't you just search him out?"

"Of course. I can probably find him in a few hours. Probably. It might well be nothing more than an injured horse. But in the meantime, we have to assume the worst." He cocked his head. "Which, no offense, is that you're now king of Cypress."

They stood there in silence a moment.

Then Eli cleared his throat. "So... Besides you and I, who knows all this?"

"No one, yet."

"Okay. Give me a minute, would you?" He closed the door in Gyan's face.

Gyan sighed, and waited. Not a full minute, perhaps, but a good 20 seconds or so. Then he started knocking again.

"Eli!" No answer. "Eli!"

The door was locked, but Gyan had of course come with a key. He opened it and stepped inside.

The window was open, and Eli was gone. On the desk near the window, Gyan found a hastily scrawled note: "Sorry G. Be back soon"

Gyan scratched the back of his ear a moment, wondering what in the world Eli might hope to gain by running away from him. Then he released a sigh. "I don't envy Farel his job."

* * *

Eli didn't have time to get Farel before leaving Castle Cypress, so taking a ladder up to Alisa's room was out. Not that it would have been a good idea anyway, considering the terms under which they'd last parted. So he did something he had never done before: stood at her front door and knocked.

The knock was shortly answered by a young servant girl. "Yes? How may I – Oh!" she said, as recognition suddenly hit her. She fell down to one knee. "Your Highness! I -"

"Please stop that," Eli sighed. "I'm still a prince, not the king." _At least, I hope so._

"Yes, Your Highness," the girl said, getting back up. "Is there... anything I can do for you?"

"I'm here to see Lady Alisa."

"Oh. I see." She glanced upstairs. "She's only just gotten dressed for the day, so ordinarily she wouldn't be seeing visitors yet, but in your case of course... Come with me."

He followed her inside. Looking over the interior of Alisa's house for the first time, he was struck anew by how small and modest it was. He'd seen much smaller, of course, but it seemed strange to think that a lady of Alisa's bearing should have grown up in a relative hovel.

As they went up the stairs, he caught the servant girl stealing the occasional glance at his face. He recognized the look; though he had not inherited his father's handsome features, his status as the unwed heir to the Cypress throne was enough to make him highly attractive.

The servant stopped at a door and knocked. "Lady Alisa! You have a visitor!" she sang in a sly, winking tone.

He heard Alisa call "Tell them to go away!" in an irritated tone.

"I can't do that, my lady," the servant giggled. "I'm pretty sure that would be considered treason, or some such thing."

This insinuation was met with silence, and a few moments later the door was flung open, and Alisa stood there. Her hair was not yet fully done up yet, but her dress and bearing were proud. "Thank you, Kathryn. You may leave us."

"To be alone with a man in your room?" she smirked.

"Prince Eli is the first-born son of our king. I'm sure he can be trusted to do me no ill," she said, unamused. "And I'm quite positive that whatever he has come to talk to me about, it is not for common ears."

"As you wish, milady," Kathryn said with a bow, and left.

Alisa silently stood back to allow Eli to enter her room. He did so, closing the door behind him. The look she was giving him as he did so was quite severe.

Once the door was firmly closed, Alisa took a breath. "I'm only allowing you in here because refusing would look suspicious. If my parents ever caught on that there was something between us, they'd never stop pressuring me to marry you. As it is, I don't know how I shall ever explain your visiting me. Whatever it is you came here to say, it had better be important."

"It is. I..." He hesitated. Prioritizing the nation's survival and his parents' safety over his romantic interest seemed obvious wisdom, but it did not feel right. Alisa watching him with mounting impatience, he swallowed, bowed his head, and said, "...I think that first I should apologize for what I said to you last night."

"What?" Alisa looked flustered and confused now.

"I hate being looked at as just my father's son, and I took that out on you. I'm sorry. Once I calmed down, I could see that you only told me the truth, because you didn't want dishonesty between us. I..." His confidence quickly coming back, he turned once again to his knack for eloquence. "I beg your forgiveness for having been so rude, and assuming the worst of a divinely kind and righteous woman like yourself. I can only hope that you will be forgiving enough to welcome me back into your heart."

"No... No, I didn't," she forced out, stumbling over her words. "You misunderstand, I wasn't... I'm not... I wasn't angry with you. What you said last night... you were within your rights to say it. I had lied to you."

"But I only lashed out at you when you told the truth. The only way I could have been within my rights is if I had found out the truth without your telling me. Even then, I think, you keeping the truth from me was your way of paying homage to our love."

Now her cheeks were flushing a very pretty shade of red. "Elijah, please, stop. You're forgetting what I told you that night."

He slowly shook his head, taking her hand in his, feeling it tremble as he did. "I've never forgotten a single word that has passed your fair lips. Least of all, the ones which preceded and followed our doing this." With that, he pressed his advantage and leaned forward to kiss her.

Their lips met, and as before, for all her protests, she met him with equal ardor. It was brief, however; part of him was still constantly worried about his parents, and he sensed something similar in her.

"I feel guilty," she said as he let her go. "Holding on to you when I know you deserve better."

"There is nothing better for me than being with you. If anyone should feel guilty, it's me, coming to you at a time like this."

"What do you mean?"

"My parents didn't come back from their ride this morning. Since I'm the heir..." He held out his hands helplessly. "I... can't think of what to do! That's not the reason why I apologized, but it is the reason I came here. I thought maybe you could help."

"Me? But I don't know the first thing about running a kingdom!"

"I know, I know. But you're the only person I can trust." _And won't think less of me for having asked for help._ "I just can't think calmly right now, with my parents probably in danger. Please. You must have some ideas."

"Well..." She wrung her hands. "I suppose the first thing we need to do is inform the people, and ask them to keep an eye out."

"Would you be serious for a moment?" he snapped.

"What...?" Alisa looked genuinely baffled.

"We can't let everyone know that the king and queen are both missing! It would create a panic! Not to mention that anyone with political aspirations or a grudge against my family would see this as the perfect opportunity. If anything, the first thing we need to do is make sure that no one finds out about this besides my family, the royal protectors, and anyone who absolutely needs to know."

Alisa's brows narrowed. "Look, you asked for my help. I told you I don't know anything about running a kingdom, but you insisted. I gave it my best shot."

His shoulders sagged slightly, and he put a hand to his head. "I... I know. I'm sorry."

"Anyway, how are you going to find your parents if you don't tell anyone? You can't just leave the castle and go looking for them yourself."

"I didn't say we shouldn't tell _anyone_... Look, what we need is a small group of trusted and skilled individuals who won't be missed while they're looking for my parents."

"People like Farel?" she offered.

"Of course not. He'd be missed. Maybe... someone like Claude. He doesn't have any duties right now, and an aerial search could save a lot of time. And someone with tracking abilities. Alex would be good. Or maybe Halron. And for a leader..."

"Excuse me." Eli looked up at her. She looked so earnest, yet even more nervous about this situation than he was. That made him feel better. "What if they don't find your parents right away? What are you going to do about running the kingdom?"

"That's true. My father probably does have a few things lined up for the next couple weeks." He rubbed his jaw. "I guess I'll ask Gyan to fill me in on everything. ...Oh, no."

"What is it?"

"I just remembered... My father mentioned at dinner that he's supposed to meet with the king and queen of Iom in about a week."

"Well, just cancel it."

"I can't do that! Don't you have any idea of the diplomatic -" He caught himself there. Alisa looked at him expectantly. "...Never mind. The point is, someone has to meet them in father's stead, and I'll have to think of someone to send. I'd go myself, but I can't leave Cypress without a monarch right now. Richard would be the usual replacement, but my cousin Barro might see it as a good opportunity, and he certainly has more time on his hands..."

Eli trailed off. Alisa watched him, biting her lip. She clearly wanted to say something helpful, but couldn't think of anything else. It was strange. She was clearly out of her depth here, and yet...

"Okay," he said. "I think I've got it now. I'm getting ideas, figuring things out, and just... feeling like I can do this. Besides, if I hang out here much longer, that servant girl is bound to get the wrong idea." He put a hand on Alisa's shoulder and kissed her forehead. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart, my lady. This has been most helpful."

"I didn't do anything," she said, baffled.

"A woman as remarkable as you can work good without even knowing it," he grinned at her. "I don't understand it myself, but you've helped me a great deal. Might I call on you again?"

"Yes," Alisa said quickly. She lowered her eyes and blushed, very faintly this time, and with pleasure, not embarrassment. "Yes, please."

* * *

Once back at Castle Cypress, Eli headed straight for Gyan's quarters. He knew he'd still be waiting for his orders, and besides, he was the only one who knew about his parents' disappearance so far as he knew.

He knocked on the door, and Gyan opened it. "Ah," the beastman said. "It's Eli."

He looked over Gyan's shoulder to see who he might be talking to. It was his cousin, Barro. "What's going on?" he said cautiously. It was hard to say whether Gyan might have confided in someone like Barro concerning the king and queen's disappearance.

"So you're finally back," Barro remarked, with a touch of remonstrance. "Gyan and I were just discussing the best way to explain the king and queen's absence. I was thinking sudden illness."

"Illness?"

"It's contrived, but it's a good single explanation for both their absences. Mayfair is a healer, so given her well-known affection for Nicholas, it makes sense that she'd care for him. Judith will be ruler in the interim, of course. You can take Nicholas's place on his trip to Iom." Barro paused to give Eli a look. "But I'm sure you're wondering what we're going to do about finding your parents. On that count, at least, an ideal solution happens to be right in front of us. Four young adventures at the castle were already planning a little expedition. What's more, they invited me. So we don't even need to invent an excuse to leave Castle Cypress for a week and search for the king and queen. Gyan can come with us as well, since no one expects him to stray far from Nicholas's side anyway. As for -"

"Excuse me. I have just one question." He let an awkward pause fall before following up, "What gave you the idea that it's your place to give the orders around here?"

Barro's face hardened into a frown. "Gyan asked you to give the orders over an hour ago. You preferred to run off and spend time with your girlfriend."

Eli gaped. "How... how did you know that?"

From a hard frown, Barro's face cracked into a disgusted scowl. "I didn't, you fool. You just confirmed my suspicions for me. Haven't you learned anything about diplomacy?"

He blushed. "But... How did you suspect in the first place?"

"Which part mystifies you? How I noticed that you spend half your time at every party with Lady Alisa, or how I narrowed down the many places you might have gone to that are less than an hour's walk from the castle?"

"Very well, that's enough," he snapped. "Sarcasm is unlike you, Barro."

"You're making yourself a very easy target for it," Barro retorted. "The point is, Cypress is facing an emergency. Someone needs to deal with it. You weren't, so I am."

"Fair enough. I apologize." Barro gave a brief nod, acknowledging his sincerity. "But I am back now, and ready to 'deal with it', as you say. Since I am the heir, your place is to surrender authority back to me on my return."

"True. But I think you'd do better to stick to my directions and take that diplomatic visit to Iom."

"Why?"

"While King Amelo and Queen Gillian are forgiving, it is an insult to be sent the heir when they were promised the king himself. We shouldn't increase the insult by sending someone less than the heir. Besides, it would be best if we put as much distance as possible between you and Lady Alisa for the moment."

Eli pondered that. He didn't like the thought of kowtowing to Barro's orders; his cousin was apparently under the impression that he was in charge just because he was older, and failing to put him in his place now could set a dangerous precedent for when he inherited the throne from his father. And if his parents were found alive, as he had to believe they would be, he'd much rather have proof that he could run the kingdom in their absence than proof that he could handle a minor diplomatic visit. Even so, he couldn't refuse Barro's suggestion if it were the best thing to do. That would be no credit to his ability as future king.

He raised his eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling. "...No. Judith is tremendously enthusiastic about diplomacy, and she's visited Iom dozens of times. She even had a long talk with ambassador Edwin just yesterday. Her talents are best used on this diplomatic visit, and mine are best used here. As for Lady Alisa..." He lowered his gaze to look Barro directly in the eye. "...I am perfectly capable of keeping my personal relationships from getting in the way of my duty without your help. Is that clear?"

Eli had to admit, the words tasted funny on his tongue. He wasn't used to throwing his royal weight around. Still, he meant what he said, and hopefully that's the way it came out. Hopefully.

His cousin studied him in silence for a moment, then tilted his head and said, "You're sure you're not just disregarding my advice out of insecurity?"

"Of course."

"Alright, then." He bowed. "I am at your orders."

Eli suspected that there was a degree of mockery behind the bow, but he didn't think it wise to reprimand Barro for it. Plausible deniability aside, he probably wouldn't get too far with pushing his authority at this point. After all, the knowledge that he was acting ruler of Cypress had to be limited to just a few people for now.

"Now that that's settled," he said. "...let's talk about this expedition to find my parents."


	19. Chapter 19: Betrayal

\- Chapter 19: Betrayal -

After casting a glance down the hall to make sure there was no one around, Silas stepped up to Gillian's study and opened the door.

Or tried to. The knob refused to turn; the door was apparently locked.

Before he could process this turn of events, a familiar sweet voice said, "Are you looking for this?"

It was Gillian. She'd just stepped out of a nearby room. Elven eyes twinkling with mirth, she was holding out to him a key - presumably the key to her study, though he'd never used it before.

_A trap? Or just a little game?_ The latter seemed far more likely; as their last meeting had proved, the young queen had a naughty side. Besides, if it was a trap, running away now would be either futile or completely unnecessary.

He smiled at Gillian as he walked towards her. "Have you changed your mind about our meeting place, my la-?"

"Sssstay away from Her Majesssty!"

Armed guards swarmed into the hall. One of them, a lizardman, seized Silas's upper arm. Though they had no lizardmen where he came from, Silas knew enough to not waste time trying to break that grip. Not that there was any need to.

"Autumn! Get us out of here!" he ordered.

Nothing happened.

Then, out of the midst of the guards surrounding him, Hindel stepped forward. "Autumn caught me off-guard with Egress twice before, Silas," he said quietly. "I resolved to not let it happen again. When Queen Gillian told me you were waiting for her inside her locked study, I realized Autumn most likely used Egress to get you in there, then hid herself while you met with Her Majesty. Stealing either copy of the study key would have been risky and troublesome, especially since there's no keyhole on the inside of the door. It surprised us when Autumn Egressed in all by herself. Redgar, you've got a good grip on him, right?"

"He'ssss going nowhere."

Silas no longer had eyes for either of them. His focus was directed entirely upon Gillian. "You betrayed us!" he snarled.

Gillian shuddered slightly, but otherwise did not lose her composure. "I did what was necessary to protect my people from further incidents like the one in Rebora." She nodded to the guards. "Take both of them to the dungeon."

As the guards took Silas and the unconscious Autumn away, Hindel turned to Queen Gillian. "You didn't have to be here for this, Your Majesty. If we had failed to subdue Silas and Autumn quickly, they might have tried to kill you."

Her cheeks squinched as though she'd been made to eat something sour. "Would that have mattered to you?"

"Of course it would have," Hindel answered, with a sincerity which caught her off-guard. "You and I might disagree on what's best for the nation, but you're a fellow Iomite. And today you've proven that you're of better character than I gave you credit for. You made a mistake, but you care for the safety of your people as much as I do. Iom would suffer from losing you as their queen."

"Thank you," she said, genuinely touched. It was almost the same praise Silas had given her on their last meeting, but unlike him, Hindel had no ulterior motive for giving it. "Today has also proven that you were telling the truth about what happened in Rebora, and about the threat Silas and his comrades pose. Therefore, there's no more reason for us to wait for the messengers' reports. We'll need a few hours to make arrangements, and clear things with General Bernard, so would it be alright if we appointed you general of Iom tomorrow?"

"I... Yes, that would be fine."

He did a poor job of hiding his nervousness. It seemed he truly was marching to Iom's orders, and wasn't looking forward to the responsibility of being general. Gillian liked that. He seemed more trustworthy than she'd thought.

Not that she could have continued to deal with Silas in any case. Gods help her, she was attracted to the man, but that attraction was clearly perverse. It could not be allowed to continue, and she could not entrust the good of her people to him again. Hindel's religious fanaticism was dangerous, but at least he'd dealt with her honestly. Better a man she couldn't control than one she couldn't trust.

"There is one thing," she said aloud. Hindel turned his head to her. "This should go without saying, but once you become general, you are to discuss any major military undertakings with me and the king beforehand."

The firm, unwavering look was upon Hindel's face again. "If Iom commands me to do something, I must follow his orders, not yours."

"I know that. Just _discuss_ it with us first, okay?"

He nodded. "You are my queen."

"Thank you. ...Hindel?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you think Silas came by himself? He might have expected a trap waiting in my study, but if so, why didn't he wait for Autumn to report back?"

Hindel looked thoughtful. "Maybe... Maybe he felt totally sure you would go along with his plan. So he was coming openly, counting on you to have unlocked the study door for him. As a show of trust for you."

The words struck her to the heart, but she withheld her reaction. "But then why send Autumn at all?"

"Well, he needed some sort of backup plan, right? If I, or any other member of the Shining Force, stumbled on your meeting with him, we might have tried to keep him from leaving. ...I don't know for sure. Why not ask Silas himself?"

"Because," Gillian said, "...he would not give me a truthful answer."

* * *

Anri was sitting in the back of the library, keenly reading through a book of magic King Nicholas had lent her. A hand snapped the book shut right as she was in the middle of a most interesting part, and a voice spat, "I want to talk to you!"

Anri stood up from her chair, and made no effort to hide her irritation as she said, "You should know your place better than this, Ellen."

"I'm your cousin!"

"The cousin of the queen is not the equal of the queen." What she really wanted to say was _"I wonder about that sometimes,"_ but she restrained herself. The trouble with that clever retort was that it could easily be mistaken for a serious accusation, since the lack of familial resemblance between her and Ellen went well beyond their moral fibers. For instance, where Anri was thin, wan, and tall, Ellen was flush and plump like a ripe peach. Her hair was a bright blond, as well, though it might well match Anri's silver mane with time; Ellen was more than ten years her cousin's junior.

"That's not the point! Could you stop being the queen for just one damn minute?"

_Ah, wouldn't that be lovely._ "Let's not waste any more time on pleasantries, Ellen. What is it you want?"

"I've been hearing rumors. Rumors that you're planning to announce your heir." She leaned forward, planting her clenched wrists on the table. "Rumors that you're planning to choose someone other than me. Is it true?"

Anri idly pushed her hair back over her shoulder. "What in the world makes you think that you're _entitled_ to inherit the throne of Guardiana?"

"I'm your cousin!"

_I wonder about that sometimes._ She again refrained from saying it aloud. "You're my second cousin, and by my great uncle's mistress. Not the noblest of lineage."

"'Mistress'? She was his second wife!"

"Only after conceiving your mother. Stop being foolish, Ellen. Besides, we both know this is no longer a matter of blood. It is a matter of who is the best person to rule Guardiana."

"And we both know that that person is me! Why do you insist on being contrary about this?"

Anri folded her arms. "There's nothing contrary about it. I see nothing in you worthy of queenship, Ellen. Quite frankly, with your lack of scruples and undisguised greed, you're the sort of person I would do anything to keep from getting her hands on the throne."

"I'm your -"

"Cousin, yes. You've mentioned that."

"And your only living relative!"

Anri shook her head and sat back down in front of her book. "That card won't work on me, Ellen. Not with the good of the entire kingdom at stake." She begin flipping through pages to try to find her place again. "Now you can cease your frightfully poor attempts to convince me to give you my crown and leave me alone, or I can silence you with a freeze spell and have the guards carry you out of here. It's your choice."

"...You're going to be a very lonely woman when you die, ice queen," Ellen said, and stormed off.

* * *

After closing the library door behind her, Ellen felt the strange urge to cry. She'd never called her cousin "ice queen" before, even behind her back. Even though it seemed just about everyone else was. It just hadn't felt right.

Now she knew, without a doubt, that it _was_ right. Anri simply hadn't been the same since she left to study in Manarina. Likely that was due to the death of her father, but she'd had plenty of time to get over her grief, and after all, Ellen had lost her only surviving parent in the invasion of Guardiana as well. Far from making her more distant, she'd tried to draw closer to Anri in the wake of that tragedy, to share their mutual grief, only to be rebuffed time and again.

She'd accepted that at the time, but now, it was that coldness which really hurt. She could forgive Anri for taking away her rightful inheritance as queen, though that blow certainly stung her pride and immensely frustrated her. But she could not forgive Anri the callous way she did it. If Anri had come to her first, and said something to the effect of, "I'm sorry, Ellen, but I've given this a lot of thought and I'm just not comfortable with leaving Guardiana in the hands of anyone other than Sir Ruce," she might have accepted that. It would have been no less frustrating, but at least it would have affirmed that she was a human being, and her cousin. Instead, Anri had betrayed her behind her back, and now insulted her to her face. And she'd done it all no differently than if Ellen had been a complete stranger.

That, she decided, was the last straw.

Her husband was waiting for her in their quarters. He took one look at her and said, "It didn't go well?"

Ellen shook her head. "I think it's time we talked to -"

"Don't worry. I've already summoned her."

"Thanks." Her husband did not share her ambition for ruling Guardiana, but he was supportive of her in that endeavor, and she appreciated that.


	20. Chapter 20: Meeting in Addleford

\- Chapter 20: Meeting in Addleford -

"Dusty!"

At the sound of his name being called, he paused at the door to the tavern. He was not there to get a drink; like his mother and father, he despised alcohol. The tavern was his place of work. It was not a job he enjoyed, but when one was looking for wrongs to right and good to accomplish, as Dusty was, there were few better sources of information than a tavern. In the short time he'd been working there, he'd already caught word of some very promising leads.

Dusty turned to face the one calling to him. "Dad," he said. "What are you doing here?"

His father remained at a light run until he'd reached him. "...Dusty?"

"Yes?" he answered, with just a touch of impatience.

His father's soft eyes studied his face. "Is... something wrong? You've never been as emotional as your brothers, but..."

"I didn't mean to be curt, dad," he sighed in apology. "But you've come at a bad time. Are you here for some reason, or were you just checking in on me?"

His dad looked from side to side, possibly checking to make sure no one was listening in. "I don't know if you've heard, but Hindel... he's been making some progress with converting people to Iom worship, and..."

"...and he's now wielding the powers of Iom," Dusty finished. "Yes, I know all about it."

He nodded slowly. "And... are you planning on doing something about it?"

"I'm not planning on getting into a fight with Hindel, if that's what you're worried about." His jaw set. "But I do plan to stop him. Even if that eventually means we have to fight."

"Dusty, listen. I'm on my way to the capital right now, to have a talk with Hindel. I don't know if I can get through to him, but..." The conversation hung for a moment there, and finally Deanna exploded, "Look, you can't fight to the death with your brother just because you don't agree with his religion! That's not what a hero does! A hero is someone who kills only when there's no other way to protect innocent lives."

Dusty rubbed at his jaw. "Um, dad... that's exactly what I'm doing. Are you saying you haven't heard..." His father looked at him blankly. "...No, I guess it makes sense that you wouldn't have. I just heard it myself. Hindel is Iom's general now."

His father didn't bat an eye. "Son, you can't believe everything that you hear. The king and queen don't approve of Hindel trying to revive Iom worship. They'd never give him a position like that."

"From what I'm told, he didn't leave them much choice. Hindel's preaching has been changing things a lot in this part of the country, especially with what happened in Rebora. Some archers fired on a crowd of people, on their Majesties' orders according to the rumors, and Hindel saved them. Hindel's a hero now. And to a lot of people, the king and queen are just tyrants fighting against the waves of change. If they want to stay on the people's good side, they have to show they support Hindel."

"But Hindel doesn't want to be in the army. You know that."

"Yeah. But I think that, if he thought it was what Iom wanted, he'd do it."

His father gave that a moment of thought; Dusty knew him well enough to wait. "...Son, think about it. Why would _Iom_ want Hindel to be a general? There's no real point unless we go to war, and we're on good terms with all our neighbors right now. If we attack any other nations, then Cypress and Guardiana, at least, will step up to stop us, even if they're not the nation being attacked. Sharland and Tyber would eventually get involved, too. Iom's not in a position for successful conquest right now. So why would our god want to start a war?"

"You shouldn't be treating that as a rhetorical question, master Deanna."

"Hell's maw, Dust," Dusty gasped through his teeth, clutching a fist to his chest. "Couldn't you have just called to me from the street, like Dad?"

"I think a man with a concealed face walking the streets would tend to attract undesirable attention." Dust's voice seemed to be coming from the tavern roof, though it was hard to say precisely where.

"It's my fault," his father said, shamefaced. "I should have mentioned he came with me. ...Dust, are you saying you have reason to believe Iom wants Hindel to go to war?"

"I'm saying we don't know enough yet to presume we have any answers. Do you think Dusty is the sort of person to put his faith in idle rumors?"

"No, but -"

"Then we should assume for the present that what he's said is true, I think. Which means you should cancel your visit to the capital."

"What? Why?"

"Because Hindel is now just one step away from being a warlord. I still don't believe in prophecy, but this is one part of Brehen's vision which we wouldn't have expected to come true, and nonetheless has. That means we should now treat the remaining part of his prophecy as a real danger."

"What is he talking about, dad?" Dusty said, looking to his father, who he instinctively relied on to provide a more straightforward answer than Dust.

But his father was still looking only at Dust, and now with a very black look on his face. "Not another word, Dust."

"Why?" For a change, Dust's voice was puzzled, if only mildly so. "He's old enough to know. He's already out on his own."

"Not. Another. Word." Both of them were reduced to silence by his tone. "You've made a good enough point, and I'll take your advice. There's no need to tell Dusty anything about Brehen."

"There's no need for you to go to the capital, anyway," Dusty put in. "I can put a stop to whatever Hindel's doing myself."

"Not if it means fighting with him."

"Dad, I just told you. If I don't stop him, a lot of innocent people are going to be killed. I don't want to fight Hindel, but if that's the only way -"

"You're not experienced enough to judge whether it's the only way or not." Dusty was again struck by his father's sharp and uncompromising tone. "You may both be old enough to survive on your own, but Natasha and I are still your parents. We... we refuse to let you... kill each other."

"So what, you'll allow Hindel to kill other people?"

Dust's voice cut in, "You should listen to your father. Especially the part about your lack of experience. You could end up killing Hindel needlessly."

His fists clenched. "That's still better than just doing nothing while Iom rises again and hundreds are slaughtered in his name!"

"Is it?" Dust chuckled. "Think for a minute. As your father has explained, it's unlikely that Iom has anything to gain by conquest right now. Isn't it possible that his real plan is to trick you into killing Hindel? To take a man who might have become one of the nation's greatest heroes, and forever stain his hands with his own brother's blood?"

That was a thought that had never occurred to him. Dusty had never envisioned himself as achieving greatness, but it was a possibility he couldn't rule out, and if Iom could see his future... "But... that wouldn't stop me, would it? If anything, I think Hindel... dying... would just make me want to try all the harder to do good, to make up for it."

"Son..." Suddenly his father's hand was on his shoulder, warm and comforting. "You don't know what it's like to lose a brother. Dust and I do. Believe us, it's something you don't want to risk happening by your own hand."

Dusty considered that a moment in silence.

"...All right. I've still got to do something to put a stop to whatever Hindel's up to, but for now I'll keep by distance from Hindel himself. Maybe I'll do some reconnaissance on Iom's army, or something."

"Thanks, Dusty." His father clasped his shoulder with a certain awkward shyness that was far more characteristic of him than his harsh tone from earlier. "That's... all I wanted from you. Trust me, your mother and I and Dust will stop whatever Iom is up to. We just have to find out what that is."


	21. Chapter 21: A Heavy Load

\- Chapter 21: A Heavy Load -

After the public ceremony appointing Hindel as Iom's new general was concluded, Hindel quietly retreated from the outpouring of cheers and applause to go to his room and pray. He hoped that Iom might have some change in his plans for the Iom army, but the only response he received to his prayer was a reiteration of the same command. How he was to carry that command out was entirely up to him.

After he was done praying, he went to Nancie's room and knocked on her door. She opened the door and smiled when she saw him. He invited her to take a walk, and she assented.

He was a bit surprised at himself. Always before, he'd been a bit awkward at overtly romantic gestures, having had no experience. But when he invited her, there was no embarrassment, no fumbling, just a casual invitation. He wasn't worried about her saying no, and stranger still, he wasn't worried about her saying yes. Then again, it was just a walk, and he did have bigger things on his mind.

They went to the palace's upper floors, along the outer wall. It was a calm night, but there was a faint wind which just lightly blew little wisps of Nancie's short dark hair. She noticed him studying her and smiled, blushing faintly.

He broke the silence. "I've been meaning to ask... How have you been doing, with your parents?"

"Just as you'd expect," she answered, looking down. "They haven't responded to my letter."

"Well, it hasn't been that long since you joined my ministry. Not even two weeks. Maybe we just need a few days for their reply to catch up with us."

She shook her head. "I don't think there will be a reply. I didn't think about it at the time, but as soon as my letter was sent out, I realized they're never going to speak to me again. They forgave what I almost did to my sister so long as they could believe it was completely a mistake. Now that I've devoted my life to Iom..."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Nancie... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said, wiping away the moisture forming in her eyes. "I chose this. It hurts sometimes, but this is what I want."

"If you want to talk about it anytime..."

"Sure. Anyway, it's been worth it, hasn't it? You've made it to general of Iom, even after the king and queen themselves stood in your way."

It was obvious (or perhaps it just seemed obvious because he knew her so well) that Nancie was changing the subject to avoid burdening him with her problems. Hindel didn't mind the burden, but deferring the subject for another time wasn't a bad idea. If there was one thing he'd picked up from his dad, it was how to give people space. Besides, he wanted to get around to the reason he'd asked her on this walk.

"I don't think that counts as a victory yet," he said. "Not until I accomplish something with that position."

She smiled. "How can you not, with Iom on your side?"

"It's not that simple." He stopped to lean against the window's edge, looking out over the city below. "Iom is powerful, but he's still... sealed away. And there's nothing I can do to change that. ...It's not just a matter of accomplishing something, either. What if I accomplish evil instead of good? All I can do is my best, and I've never done this before. It's... All my life I've wanted to change the world, and make people turn back to Iom. Now that I have the chance, I'm scared of what I might do."

"Even now, there are people far more irresponsible than you who are determining the direction the world goes in," she returned. "You're not likely to topple the pyramid. In fact, I think you're likely to do just the opposite."

"Yes, but... more and more, Iom's mission just feels like too much to bear on my own." This was it. "I need someone by my side." He fumbled in his pocket for the packet of seeds. His throat was swelling up. He was terrified. But he couldn't stop now. "Someone... someone like you. Whenever you're with me, you give me strength. You help me see the right thing to do." He held out the seeds and said softly, "Grow."

At his command, the seeds all sprouted, shoots reaching up slender and strong, winding together, finally joining at the top into one large flower, gilded in an array of colors.

Nancie, looking on in mild awe, said, "Iom's power lets you do that?"

"No, it's just magic. My mother taught me. Nancie," he spoke in a rush, desperate to not get off topic now, "...will you marry me?"

Nancie stared at him, then at the flower, now realizing its significance. She looked rather at a loss, almost as though she not only didn't know how she should answer Hindel's proposal, but didn't even know what the options for answering a marriage proposal were.

"Hindel..." she started slowly.

"Wait!" he said, suddenly struck by his proposal's insufficiency. "That came out wrong. I'm not asking you to marry me just because I've become general of Iom. That's just why I'm asking you now. I've... I've been in love with you since the day we met, and I wanted to get to know you better before taking it this far. But things with my mission have been happening so fast, and... I know no matter what happens, I'll never feel any different about you. If I waited another five years, I'd only want to marry you more. You understand me in a way no one has before. Not my parents, not my brothers and sisters, not my friends. And I think I understand you. No one else makes sense to me the way you do. That's why... I want to marry you."

Hindel held out the flower to her and waited for her to say something. He was visibly trembling now, but he couldn't control it.

Nancie shook her head. "Hindel... You've got it backwards."

"What?"

"You say you need a wife so that you can handle Iom's mission for you, but it's the other way around. You've been given a sacred and holy task; getting married now would only distract you from that. You'd be fixated on your wife, on your own personal life, right when you should be devoting yourself to our people and our god." She pushed away the hand holding the flower. "It wouldn't be right."

"That's not true!" he protested. "I prayed to Iom about this. He didn't care if I asked you to marry me, not in the least."

Nancie shook her head. "I see a better explanation for that. You keep saying how Iom won't tell you anything more than basic instructions. Don't you think that might be because he wants you to find the path to victory by yourself, without having every part of your life dictated for you?"

"But -"

"Did Iom actually tell you that marrying me wouldn't get in the way of your mission?"

He felt tempted to lie. "No..."

"Then you shouldn't assume that's what he meant." She cast her eyes down. "I'm sorry, Hindel, but my answer is no. And you shouldn't ask anyone else, either."

He couldn't speak. He couldn't even think of anything to say.

Nancie wrung her hands briefly, and took a step back. "I'm sorry if I lead you on. I didn't mean to. We were friends before I found out you were Iom's chosen one, and I... I wanted us to keep on being friends. That's all."

She turned to go.

"Wait!" Nancie stopped. He felt his heart constricting in his chest, as though she had it in her hand and could crush it with her next words. "Nancie, please... At least tell me if that's the only reason you're saying no. Do you have feelings for me at all?"

She turned her head sharply. "You can't expect me to answer that! If I say yes, it will distract you from your mission almost as much as if I'd agreed to marry you. If I say no, you'll have no way of knowing that I'm not lying for that very reason. You must forget about me and concentrate on your duty as Iom's chosen one."

With that, she resumed walking away from him, at a much brisker pace this time. Within moments, she was out of sight.

The flower fell out of his hands. He was no longer trembling, but actually shaking. He sat down and leaned against the wall to steady himself. He wrapped his arms around his legs, drawing his knees up to himself.

He could scarcely believe she'd rejected him. Not because he'd had much confidence in himself, but because he'd wagered so much upon her saying yes. Iom had given him the power to save lives, to change hearts, to restore people's faith, and now, it seemed, to conquer a nation. How could he then be left without the power to marry the girl he loved? Or to even know if she loved him in turn?

That question plagued him more than anything. If Nancie felt the same way he did, then at least there was hope.

_Maybe I don't need her answer to that. I mean, she did make it very clear that she didn't want me proposing to other girls, didn't she? Doesn't that as much as say that she has feelings for me?_

_ ...No. That's wishful thinking. She said I shouldn't be distracting myself with thoughts of marriage, so that's probably what she meant. The simple fact that she refused to tell me if she loves me is enough to tell me she doesn't. I remember mom telling me how, when dad was going to leave her behind in Cypress, she threw away her dignity and told him she loved him, even though she didn't think he felt the same way for her. Even if it meant getting hurt, she couldn't hide her feelings. If Nancie loved me, she wouldn't hide her feelings either._

He swallowed the lump in his throat that came with this depressing admission.

_I guess I can't just cast stones at Nancie, either. Mom thought dad didn't love her because he hadn't asked her to come with him to Iom. He didn't ask because he loved her too much to put her in that position, where she'd have to choose between her feelings for him and her home. Where she would have felt that choosing to give up her friends and her happiness is the only way she wouldn't be rejecting dad. He chose to live without her rather than put her through that. ...But me? I proposed to Nancie right when our mission for Iom is reaching its peak, right when her parents seem to have disowned her, right when a question like that is the last thing she needs. I didn't think of her. I only thought of my own feelings._

_ So maybe I don't really love her at all._

"Shut up! I do love her! If I had the chance, I'd -"

He caught himself before saying what he would do for her, and looked around wildly in fear that someone might have heard him talking to himself. But there was no one.

Nonetheless, he quickly got up and headed for his room so that he could cry in private. So many unfamiliar emotions were roiling within him, and it was difficult to keep a lid on them.

Once he had closed the door to his room behind him, he actually felt a bit calmer. He managed to wipe away his tears. Maybe Nancie had been right. Whether he truly loved her or no, the timing for his proposal had been wrong. He could not pursue love while his holy mission was incomplete. As he was now showing, it risked dealing him an emotional blow when he most needed his head about him.

Of course, it had been a bit of a dilemma, because the support she could have given him as wife really would have been vital to his mission. He sniffed back a sob at the thought of that lost prospect. Now maybe he wouldn't even have her support as his friend.

But that could not be an excuse. Thousands of people were relying on him. Iom himself was relying on him. He needed to make a decision.

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in."

Alric stepped inside. "Glad I found you here. Thought I should be the one to tell you. It seems your ascension to general has already converted a lot more people to the cause. There was a riot yesterday - nothing too serious, mind you, but still - and right now there's a crowd of a couple dozen people outside the palace waiting just to see you."

"By Iom." Hindel rested his forehead in his hand. "Okay, I'll go and speak to them. I'll just have to explain again that what I'm doing, and what's happening to me, is all for the glory of Iom, not myself."

"Sounds like a good idea. Except, um, it might take a bit more than that to satisfy 'em."

He looked up. "What do you mean?"

Alric scratched the side of his neck. "Word has gotten around that though you've been a priest of Iom for some time now, you still haven't made a human sacrifice. They're vying for the honor of being... your first." He paused. "I'll completely understand if you feel you're not ready for that. But convincing that crowd might not be easy, just so you're aware."

Hindel looked back down at his lap. "No, I... I'll do it. I've longed to perform my first human sacrifice for years, and now that people are relying on me to be their spiritual leader... I have to do it. I'm Iom's chosen servant."

"You don't _have_ to do anything you don't want to, Hindel."

"I want to." He stood up. _And maybe... Maybe this will be it. I'm feeling so confused about what I have to do now, even without thinking about Nancie... and this feels right. Maybe once I've done it, made my first real sacrifice to Iom, I'll see the right path more clearly._


	22. Chapter 22: The Search for the King and

\- Chapter 22: The Search for the King and Queen -

"Here's where I lost the trail."

Barro nodded at the place Gyan was pointing to. "So I see."

No one could have missed it. A swath of footprints and hoofprints, clearly indicating at least two people on foot and three times as many mounted, ended at a river.

"The trail doesn't pick up on the other side?" Barro asked.

"Probably, but I wasn't in a hurry to check. With a party this large, nothing would be easier than to have a bunch of them split off to act as a diversion."

"While the group carrying the king and queen cover their tracks, you mean?" He nodded thoughtfully at the river. "Or even... board a boat. We'll have to come up with some pretext to have soldiers search any craft coming down this river."

"That wouldn't do any good," Caleb piped up. "My dad and I have gone on boating trips on this river. You only have to row for a couple hours in this direction before it empties out into a lake."

"And Nicholas and Mayfair's abductors undoubtedly knew that," Barro sighed. "So from the looks of things, we already have lost the trail. Still, we should check the other side of the river, just to be sure."

"How can you be so calm?" Karis stamped her hind left foot, as she often did when she was anxious. It had always struck Barro as a childish habit, but it was one she hadn't outgrown yet. "The king and queen are gone, and we haven't got a single lead on where to find them!"

"Panicking won't help anything," he returned. He actually was glad of Karis's emotional reaction. Her presence, more than that of any of the others, made the atmosphere feel more human, and somehow made it easier for him to remain focused and objective. "Could you all be quiet while I try to think of a plan?"

They compliantly went silent for a minute, during which Gyan stripped off his heavy armor and swam across to search the other side. The others, save Barro, watched him.

"We should give him a hand," Caleb said.

"What good would that do, besides getting us thoroughly soaked?" Taela huffed. "This is _not_ how I pictured our big adventure."

"Taela! The king and queen are missing, and you still can't think of anyone but yourself?"

"Barro and Gyan will find them. They don't need _our_ help."

"Would you two shut up?" Barro snapped. After a few more seconds of silence, he announced, "Okay. The problem isn't tracking where Nicholas and Mayfair's captors were; it's predicting where they'll go next."

"But how do we do that?" Karis said. "We don't even know who they are."

"True, but we can make reasonable assumptions, just to narrow things down. My cousin is well-loved. He has very few enemies, and most of the ones he has realize they're better off with him in power than with a weaker king like Eli. If someone wanted to use him as a hostage, we'd have gotten demands by now. And no one around here is foolish enough to think they could force King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair to give them anything and get away with it. So we can reasonably assume that the abductors are not from Cypress. That means they'll want to take the king and queen out of the country."

"Couldn't they have a hideout in Cypress?" Rimeon suggested.

"Yes, but why would they? It's an unnecessary risk to keep the king and queen in this country." He sat down and idly plucked a piece of grass, staring at it. "Cypress has land borders with Iom, Sharland, and Emild, but the Iom and Sharland borders are far from here. Emild is a tempting choice; Iom agents took the Sword of Hajya across the Emild border when I was a boy, during the war. But... Cypress and Emild are allies. I think it makes more sense for them to escape by sea than over any land border."

"Except this river doesn't lead to the sea," Caleb put in. "Just into the lake."

"The overall journey would still be shorter than going to Iom or Sharland. And their escape would be more complete once they got there." He dropped the piece of grass. "Having the ports searched will be fairly easy. We'll just say a valuable family heirloom of King Nicholas's was stolen, and the guards will go through every last sack of flour on every ship."

"What if they just set off from shore in a rowboat?" Karis said. "Or what if they take the long way to Iom or Sharland, just because they figure you won't expect it?"

"Like I said, reasonable assumptions," Barro answered. "We can't cover all the possibilities, so we just have to narrow things down somehow."

They all turned as Gyan came back from the other side of the shore. "Yeah, there's a trail on the other side," he grunted, and paused to shake the water off his body as best he could. "No trace of Nick or Mayfair themselves, not that that means anything. I'd still say it's almost definitely a decoy party."

Barro nodded. "I agree, but it's still our only actual, physical lead for now. Gyan, you take the lead in following that trail. Rimeon and I will head back to town to send a message to Eli to have the ports searched, and catch up with you once I'm done. Understood?" They all muttered assent, Taela less graciously than the others. "All of you, be careful. Decoy party or no, our quarry is expecting pursuit, and anyone who could capture the king and queen must be tremendously dangerous. If you catch up to them, don't engage until Rimeon and I get back."

Rimeon and Barro gave each other a brief nod, and went on their way. The others, seeing no sense in getting themselves soaked, began walking towards the nearest bridge across the river.

"Well," Taela announced, once they were safely out of earshot of their companions, "He's really turned into a stiff, hasn't he?"

"Hey, it's not like this is a party!" Caleb retorted. "His cousin's been kidnapped, and he's trying to get him back!"

"All the more reason for him to be a little emotional. If it were my cousin, I'd be a little bit upset, and I wouldn't hide it from my friends."

"Well, maybe we're not that close as friends anymore."

"Caleb! How can you say that?" Karis gasped. "Barro's been our friend since we were little!"

"I'm just saying, he called out of our big adventure just so he could do some combat training." Caleb skipped on ahead of the others a little. "I'm not blaming anyone. I just think we've grown apart, is all."

"Well." Taela folded her arms. "I think we should do something about that."

"Oh no," Karis moaned, holding her head. "Not another of your schemes. I couldn't bear it."

"Jeez, Karis, you make it sound like I dream up some new grandiose plot every week. Look, it's simple: We all want things back the way they were with Barro, right?"

Karis nodded silently, but Caleb said, "I don't know. I mean, it's sad to lose a friend, but we can't force Barro to be a certain way."

"Well, we've got him along on our adventure, so that's a good start. The next step is to make him realize he still cares about us. Which shouldn't be hard, since this adventure is -"

"Hey," Karis interrupted, turning around. "What's up with him?"

Gyan had stopped, squatted down, and was intensely studying the path. The others walked back to stand around him. He gave no sign of being aware of their presence.

"Ahem," Taela said pertly. "The people we're after went this way. We can tell that even without fancy tracking skills."

Gyan glanced up with his one good eye. "Exactly. They've made no effort to cover their trail."

"Well, you said this is probably a decoy party, right?" Caleb pointed out. "So they probably want us to follow them."

"No. A decoy party would want us to search for them, not catch them. For a while it made sense for them to leave an obvious trail, because they want to make sure we're after them and not Nick and Mayfair's party. But we've been on their trail for a while now, so why should they keep making it easy for us? It's as if..."

Suddenly Gyan's ears perked up. An instant later, there was a rustling in the brush around them, and in the blink of an eye a whole squad of men and women armed with crossbows leapt out to surround them.

One of them stood out for a strange adornment consisting of some wire which ran over his ears and around his face, holding two small pieces of transparent glass suspended in front of his eyes. He smiled at Gyan. "As if you're being led into a trap, yes?"


	23. Chapter 23: Homecoming

\- Chapter 23: Homecoming -

"I'm not tired," Joshua protested as Deanna pulled the covers up to his chin. He did not, however, make any movements that would interfere with this. "I'm not a little kid anymore, either. You don't need to tuck me into bed."

"I know," Deanna said, resting his arms on the edge of the bed. "But your mother's having a rough time right now, with Hindel being gone. She was hoping I'd bring him back with me, and..."

"And she's really pissed at you," Joshua put in.

"Yes. So do you think you can just be quiet for her tonight?"

He bit his lip for a moment. "Why _didn't_ you bring Hindel back?"

Deanna looked away. He'd already told them all about Hindel becoming general of Iom, but he of course couldn't tell them about Brehen's prophecy. "Hindel... is like you. He's not a little kid anymore. I can't make him do... what he doesn't want to do."

"Why'd he leave, anyway? Was it because of me?"

His head whipped back to Joshua. "Where did you get that idea?"

"I'm always getting on his nerves."

Now Deanna smiled. "We all got on his nerves. Hindel... cares very deeply about Iom, and he thinks that everyone should. I don't know if he's right, but that's how he sees things, and he hasn't learned yet how to be patient and understanding with people that don't do everything they should. But he still loves you. He left because it was time for him to be off on his own. It had nothing to do with you."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," he said, and kissed his son's forehead. "Try to get some sleep, okay, Josh?"

Joshua smiled. "Okay, dad."

Deanna stepped back and went to the door, then turned to look one last time. Joshua was lying quietly with his eyes closed. For all his misbehavior, he really was a good boy. He wouldn't do anything to add to his mother's miseries when she was already having such a difficult time.

Tomorrow he'd have to ask him how he'd feel about Malcolm moving into Hindel's old bunk. It had to be lonely for Josh, sleeping in the top bunk with no Hindel below him for the first time since he was a baby. Deanna still remembered how lonely he'd felt on his first night without Hindel's namesake, when he left to go to war with Cypress.

He quietly closed the door to Joshua's room and went into the dining room. Natasha was sitting at the table with a cup of tea.

"I've put the kids to bed," he told her.

She did not look at him. It cut through his heart to see her like this, so unlike her usual self. He'd had enough of it.

He took a seat next to her at the table. "Natasha, you have to talk to me sooner or later."

He waited. Still nothing.

"Okay," he sighed. "If you won't talk, I will. It... really hurts me that you're doing this, Natasha. And I know that's why you're doing it, but you're hurting yourself, too, and I can't stand that. And you're hurting the kids, too, because it scares them to see us not getting along, and... I just won't stand for that. I won't stand for anything that hurts our children." His voice shook to say that to her, but he meant it.

Natasha cast him a quick searching glance, but still she said nothing.

"If you won't forgive me for our sake, you have to do it for our children's sake. I'm sure you feel the same way, because I know you love the kids so much, and it's just that... you can't bring yourself to do it. But, Natasha... you have to know that I didn't mean for things with Hindel to work out like this. If I'd known he'd take Iom worship this far, I... I never would have asked to teach the kids about my god. You can't hate me forever just because I made a mistake."

Natasha was still silent, but she turned to him with a pained look, and kept her eyes on him as he continued talking.

"It's... more than that, I know," he said, feeling suddenly weak from the look in her eyes. "I've been a bad father. You've done... far more for them than I ever could. I don't think it's possible to be a better mother than you are, and I... just sort of stumbled through parenting with no idea what I was doing. After I'd felt how awfully hungry Iom is, I couldn't stand to go through life without doing something for him. I guess... I should have realized that you know how to raise kids better than I do, and let you make the decisions on what to teach them. But instead I argued with you, and now Hindel is paying the price for that. So I understand why you're mad, because I screwed everything up for Hindel, and it's just lucky that the same hasn't happened to the rest of -"

"Stop it," Natasha said.

He stopped. Natasha's command was spoken hoarsely, but just the sound of her talking to him for the first time in weeks struck him dumb.

"Just stop it!" she said, her voice raising to normal volume. He got the impression that she'd be yelling if she wasn't worried about disturbing the children. "You're a good father! You're not perfect, and sometimes it drives me nuts that you never seem to put your foot down when any of them are misbehaving, but you're so sweet and caring with them, and you taught them everything you know, and you never once put yourself before any of us. So don't you say that I'm calling you a bad father, because you're a wonderful father. And maybe teaching Hindel to worship Iom was a mistake, but we've both made mistakes, and it would have been wrong for you to just go along with my parenting decisions on everything. That's not how marriage is supposed to work. We're partners. When partners can't agree, they compromise. If you didn't speak up for what you thought was the best way to raise the kids, then you really would be a bad father. But you're not, so... So you spoke up, and we compromised! There's nothing wrong with that. You couldn't have known this would happen."

Deanna stared at her. "Then why are you mad at me?"

"Because Hindel's gone, Deanna!" she burst out, tears swelling in her eyes. "Our boy has gone over to Iom, to killing people and making war, and I don't know if we can ever bring him back!"

"Natasha..."

She hid her face in her hands and fell to sobbing.

He reached over and gently but firmly pulled her hands away from her face so that he could look into her eyes. "Natasha," he said.

He was planning to tell her that it was all going to be alright. But looking into her soft, compassionate eyes, confronted with the helplessness there, and with the warm tears birthed by a love for both Hindel and the thousands she feared would suffer at his hands, the words vanished away and he found himself kissing her, kissing her cheeks, kissing her eyes, kissing her tears. Taking her in his arms to reassure her, to run his hands through her hair. Hearing her whisper his name with the same love she'd always had for him, and with a surprised happiness and joy in the midst of their sorrow. Feeling her arms wrap around his head and the back of his neck as though desperately grasping onto their reconciliation for fear of it getting away, her lips meeting his to return his kisses.

He forgot everything. So long as she still loved him, none of the rest of it could take away his happiness. Her love gave him all the strength he needed. If a mountain made her unhappy, he would move it out of the way. If Hindel really had turned to evil in Iom's name, he would bring him back.

Their mouths linked fully, and they shared each other's breath. There was a sweet release, for her as well as him, in being able to share this after their long estrangement.

When their mouths separated again, and he looked in her eyes to see a passion which equaled that which he felt for her, Natasha said quietly, "Take me to bed."

He bent down and scooped her up in his arms. She clung to his neck and watched his face, but though he'd have liked to be lost in her eyes for a while, he had to keep his own gaze on where they were going. He carried her towards the bedroom, anticipation building in both of them with each step. It had been too long.

* * *

Joshua told himself, for the third time, that he should go to sleep. Dad had said that any nighttime shenanigans would be more than Mom could handle right now, and Joshua had reason to believe that he was right. He'd been talking back, fighting with his brothers and sisters, and staying out after dark every day since Hindel left, and his mother's remonstrances definitely had a more strained tone than usual.

But he kept on thinking of Hindel. Dad had assured him that him leaving wasn't his fault, but he couldn't quite swallow that. It was true that Hindel got annoyed with all of them for not bowing down to a statue of a made-up winged monster, but Josh always got his goat about it better than anyone else. He still remembered the time he stole Hindel's little clay statue of Iom, three years ago.

"There are eleven people living in this house," he'd said to Hindel. "What makes you think _I_ took it?"

"It was here at lunchtime," Hindel answered. "Malcolm's been out with Mom that whole time. Dusty said he didn't take it, and he wouldn't lie. You're the only other person who would've taken it."

"Hey," he said, as though an idea had just occurred to him. "Maybe it walked off by itself. I mean, it _is_ a god, right?"

"Maybe you stole it and you're going to give it back before I beat you within an inch of your life!"

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh, I can totally see you doing that to someone, holy boy. Anyway, why are you so sure it didn't walk off by itself? Maybe Iom had a human sacrifice to go to, or something."

"It's a statue of Iom, not Iom himself!"

He gasped in mock dismay. "Hindel! I'm __shocked __at your lack of faith!" With a sleight of hand trick he'd picked up, he made the statue appear in his right hand. "****You doubt my power, Hindel?****" he said, bobbing the statue as it "talked". "****I am your god!****"

Hindel's eyes went dark. "Stop that right now."

It annoyed Josh that Hindel wasn't impressed with his ventriloquism skills. He'd been working on them for quite a while, and this was his first time trying them on an audience. He later found out that they weren't yet as perfected as he'd thought; when he showed them off to Dawn, she had pointed out in her usual harsh manner that his lips were moving. Though on second thought, it was likely Hindel wouldn't have been amused by his puppet god routine anyway. "****You presume to order your god? You are clearly not as devout as your pious brother Joshua.****"

"Josh, what you're doing is sacrilege. It's evil. Stop it, right now."

"****Unbeliever! I shall smite you!****" He struck Hindel in the face with the statue.

"Ow!" Hindel stumbled backwards from the blow. Josh never pulled his punches, and when Hindel put a hand to his face, he found trickles of blood coming from his nose and cheek. But it wasn't his own self that Hindel's attention was most focused on. The blow had broken off one of the statue's arms.

Joshua hesitated, looking back and forth between Hindel and the severed arm. Josh didn't pull his punches, but he did have some sense of when he'd gone too far, and he was momentarily uncertain whether he should apologize or if it was okay to continue with his mockery.

He didn't get a chance to make up his mind before his brother gave a cry of white-hot rage and attacked him, grabbing his collar and shoving him face-first to the ground.

"You worthless piece of crap!" Hindel screamed, squatting on his back so that he couldn't get up, and breathing wasn't exactly a piece of cake either. "You... need... to... learn... respect!" He began grinding Josh's face in the muddy dirt, jerking him forward with one word, back with the next.

Stones and pebbles cut into his flesh. Grains of dirt rubbed his skin raw. When he cried out in pain, he involuntarily lapped up a mouthful of mud. He couldn't even think, beyond an awareness of the pain and a wish that it would somehow stop.

"Mommmmeeeee!" Jacey shrieked. "Hindel's killing Joshua!"

Hindel didn't pause at their little sister's call for help, continuing to grind Josh's face into the ground until their mother came running outside and yanked him off.

"Hindel!" There was plenty of remonstrance in her voice, but not as much as there was horror. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Teaching him a lesson!" Hindel shot back. Josh slowly pushed himself up on all fours. He stared at the new streaks in the earth and coughed. "A lesson he would've learned a long time ago if he wasn't such an idiot!"

"What are you talking about?" Mom demanded.

"He was making fun of Iom, Mom! He stole my Iom statue and was using it to make fun of our god! And then he broke the statue using it as a weapon on my face! He's just blaspheming and laughing it up and someone has to -"

"HINDEL!" Mom had never sounded so angry. "Look at what you've _done_ to your brother!"

Josh had by this point managed to get to his feet and brush away a little of the dirt. Naturally, it wasn't until later that he learned what it was Hindel saw: caked-on mud and bruises all over, and a frightening friction burn which had reduced half his left cheek to a deep red blister. For the moment, all he saw was the look of sheer hate in Hindel's eyes. Seeing that look was the first time Joshua suspected that he didn't really know his brother.

"I was giving him what he deserved," Hindel said, his wrathful gaze not wavering from Josh.

"Go to your room!" Mom ordered. "And don't you dare come out until I say you can!"

Hindel gave her a cold glare, then turned and walked back towards the house as he'd been told. When he reached the front door, however, he turned back and exploded, "You don't care about anything, do you Josh?! The whole world is just one big joke to you! You just don't care!"

"HINDEL! Get in your room now, or I'll use my magic on you!"

This was a rare threat. Mom had used magic to mete out discipline before, but only on those terrible few occasions when her yelling and moral remonstrances were not enough, and never before without saying which spell she intended to use. Hindel went to his room, leaving Mom to tend to Josh.

__On the off chance that the Light can read my mind, and is taking notes, the whole world is __not __just one big joke to me, __Joshua reflected as he stared up at the ceiling, head propped up on his hands and pillow. But he did have to admit that it must have seemed that way from his words and actions. As he'd grown older, he had acquired some sense of shame over his misbehavior, but he just couldn't stop. Like it or not, the family troublemaker was who he was.

Hindel was totally different. He seemed to be exactly who he wanted to be. He always said what he felt.

__Maybe that's why I like him so much.__

The face-meet-dirt incident was a side of Hindel he'd never seen before, but he had been as honest about it as everything else. He'd never even really apologized for it. Mom had made him deliver an apology, of course, but he'd done nothing to hide its insincerity from either of them. Which was kind of scary, but at the same time, pretty cool.

He was a bit wary around Hindel for about a week after the incident, but before long things had gone back to normal. That was the thing about siblings: You lived in the same house, so hating each other just wasn't an option.

But now they didn't live in the same household. And the more Joshua thought about it, the more sense it made for Hindel to hate him. To hate anyone who'd ridiculed the thing he loved most: his god.

__This is stupid. It's not just Hindel. Carla's gone, Dusty's gone, Amy's gonna be gone in a couple years, and not one of them is gonna miss me. Dusty'll laugh now and then when he thinks of one of my jokes, but that's it; he won't actually wish I was there. Even I can't wait to get out of this house and go somewhere where I won't have a whole bunch of crybaby brothers and sisters. So what do I care if Hindel hates me now? What do I care if Jacey says she wishes I was gone instead of Hindel? What do I care if Dawn thinks my animal impressions are getting old? What do I care if Mom stays mad at Dad for the rest of my life?__

__ You know what? Screw them all. __He pushed back the covers, climbed onto the bed post, and hopped down. He threw on some clothes, popped open his window, and crawled outside, closing the window behind him.

He headed for his friend Jack's house. There was a good chance he'd still be awake, and ready for some adventure. If not, well, this was still better than lying in bed.

* * *

Natasha often felt that all the sorrows she'd experienced in life were outweighed by a single instance of her and Deanna making love. Though they'd been clumsy at it at first, Deanna had long since learned all her body's responses and become practiced at touching her in all the ways that gave her the most pleasure. He was so devoted to it, always focused much more on pleasing her than pleasing himself. And even on their first time, he'd always had that gentle, tender touch that she so loved.

Their lovemaking could go in so many directions, but it nearly always ended with their two bodies entwined, pulsing together as they gazed into each other's eyes, feeling every movement and quaking of each other's bodies. Having her husband physically joined to her was a familiar pleasure, but no less of a one for that, and it was wonderful to express their love for each other in a much clearer way than their words could ever do. On more than one occasion, they had wept for joy at how beautiful it was.

But not tonight. Tonight their lovemaking was deprived of the climactic act of sex.

They lay on the bed, Deanna's body spooning hers. His arm was around her, reassuring and protective. He was still aroused; she could feel it. But it did not bother her, for she knew Deanna would never pressure her into having sex. The thought made her feel guilty.

"I'm sorry," she said aloud. "I know you were in the mood."

"It's okay," he said, caressing her in a way that he knew would soothe rather than arouse her. "If you're not in the mood, it can't be helped."

"That's just it," she protested. "I _am_ in the mood. It's just... Normally, when we make love, all I can think about is us, how wonderful your touch is, and how much I love you, and the best ways I can show you that, and how good it all makes me feel. And it's only afterwards that I think, maybe we'll get a baby out of this in the bargain. This time, I just kept on thinking about wanting another baby."

"What's wrong with that? I'd be happy to have another child."

"Mmm. We do make wonderful children together, don't we?" she murmured, leaning back against his reassuring warmth. "I guess ordinarily, this wouldn't feel so wrong. But with what's going on with Hindel... I'm worried that I just want to have another baby to replace him." She felt her voice getting hoarse. "To replace our little boy."

"Natasha." He squeezed her shoulder. "We haven't lost Hindel. Something's going wrong with him, but he's not lost to us."

There was a moment of silence. Then she burst out without thinking, "I've got to go see him."

"Huh?" Deanna sounded confused, and she couldn't blame him. "Natasha, when we talked about this last, you said there was no point in trying to talk Hindel into stopping his religious revival right now."

"I know, I know. But I was wrong to say that we shouldn't try." She felt tears starting to run from her eyes, and she did not fight them back. "Even if he's grown up now, Hindel is still our son. I don't know how or why these transformations started happening to him, but I know he must be scared and confused. He'll never admit it to his followers, but having your body change like that has to be frightening, and who knows what else Iom is doing to him? You've told me Iom isn't evil, but that doesn't mean the things he does to his worshipers are good for them. I've just got to help Hindel, no matter what. I'm his mother."

Deanna answered after a moment, "You're right. But what about... Brehen's prophecy?"

"No matter what," she repeated.

"Okay," he said, and kissed her cheek. "I'll go with you. We'll get some of our friends to watch over the kids while we're gone. No matter what it takes, together we'll make Hindel realize how dangerous spreading Iom worship is."

"You're so good to me." She turned her head and kissed him back. "I'm sorry for being so mean to you these past weeks."

He saw the tears on her face, and gently brushed them away. "It's okay. I told you, I understand why you were angry."

"I think I was mostly angry at myself. Hindel's upbringing is my responsibility, too, just as much as yours. I didn't listen to Brehen anymore than you, and I did less to try to free him from his insanity. At least you visited him in prison now and then. And it was easy to take it all out on you, because you never argue back. I was punishing myself and venting my anger at the same time, by cutting myself off from you."

"Maybe." He ran his hand through her hair. "But I think... you were honestly angry at me, too. You're probably right that I'm not a bad father, but raising the kids to worship Iom was a bad mistake. I didn't believe in Brehen's prophecy, and I still don't, but I was tempting fate by leading Hindel down that path. I should have considered that parts of the prophecy might come true by coincidence."

"But you were doing what you thought was right," she said, turning her head from him again. "I... I just left poor Brehen to rot in his cell."

"I told you, I didn't want you anywhere near him." Deanna's voice was suddenly stern. "Brehen was a madman. He kept on ranting about murdering our children until the day he died. I don't want someone as beautiful and gentle as you exposed to ugliness like that, ever. It would have been pointless anyway. Even if you could look past your anger at him for trying to kill Carla, you don't know anything about helping people like him. We did our best, but I think it was already too late for Brehen by the time we met him."

Natasha could not hold in a small blissful sigh. She loved how protective Deanna was of her. He was probably right, too; she could still barely even think about Brehen without simmering with rage at how he'd tried to kill Carla.

"Okay." She let herself relax in his arms again. "But I'm still sorry about tonight. Once this thing with Hindel is over, I'll make it up to you. We'll have the kids stay with Hal for a week, and we can make love every day and night." She caught herself. "Um... If that's okay with you, I mean."

"I... Yes, I'm okay with that." He hastily added, "More than okay, I mean."

It was a relief that she'd flustered him. Her mild embarrassment was made all the milder for being shared.

She reached for his hand, and they entwined their fingers. "I'm glad we're not fighting anymore," she said. "I guess we have to fight sometimes, but this one went on too long. I needed this. I needed to have your arms around me again."

Deanna murmured agreement. They lay in silence, ready to drift off to sleep. There were things which still needed to be worked out, but for now, this was enough. The rest could wait until tomorrow.

"Mom? Dad?"

Natasha sat bolt upright, holding the blanket over her bare chest, and she could feel Deanna sit up beside her. "Hindel?" she gasped. "Is that you?"

It was by now too dark to make out more than a vague shadow, but his voice was unmistakable. "Yes, Mom, it's me. I'm sorry I woke you guys up."

"Dear gods, Hindel." She felt like weeping. "I'm so glad you're back."

"Hindel..." Deanna's voice was warm, but puzzled. "What are you doing here?"

"Give me a minute, Dad. It's a long story." There was filial love in his tone, which was welcome to Natasha's ears after the way he'd left, but a weariness, too. "So much has happened since the last time I was home... I've made some good friends, friends who have helped me out of tough spots. I met a girl, and even proposed to her, but she said no. I became a priest. Iom gifted me with some of his own power. I've preached to people, helped them see the right way. People have tried to kill me, and my friends. And I... I've killed. I killed... I'm not even sure how many men. Maybe a half dozen. They were murdering innocent people, and I had to stop them, and after I did it, I realized I wasn't sorry. I'm not sorry about any of it, really. The work I'm doing as Iom's servant is hard, and I've often thought that you'd hate me if you knew about it, but I feel like I'm doing the right thing."

"We'd never hate you, Hindel," Natasha said. "We love you, and always will. No matter what happens, no matter what you become, it can't change the fact that you're our son." She didn't need to look to know that Deanna was nodding his agreement with her.

"I... I can't tell you how good it is to hear you say that, Mom. It means I don't have to worry about showing you this."

He held up a hand. Though the darkness prevented her from seeing any details, the silhouette of the hand was plainly clawed. Natasha swallowed. But the words she'd just said still held true. "Have you been alright, Hindel? This change in your body..."

"I'm better than ever, Mom. The change shocked me too, the first time, but it's a good thing. It makes me stronger, and closer to Iom. That's all. And I can change back any time I want. It's like magic: It's only bad when you use it for the wrong reasons, or without knowing what you're doing. That's why I killed Brehen; I didn't know what this body could do. Now that I know, something like that won't happen again."

"So killing Brehen... was an accident?" A wave of mild relief washed over her.

"Yeah. I'd undo it if I could, but what's done is done," he sighed. "What I need to worry about is making new mistakes. A mistake now could mean the lives of hundreds of people, not just one. For a little while, I was really unsure of myself because of that. I didn't know what to do. But then I... I made my first human sacrifice."

Natasha looked down at the bedsheets, a lump in her throat. "Hindel..."

"He wanted to be with Iom, Mom. The high priest talked with him, and I talked with him, a long time before I sacrificed him. I wouldn't have agreed to it if I thought there was any chance he was doing it just because he wanted to be remembered as my first human sacrifice. Still, it... It was different from what I expected. It opened my eyes to a truth that I've been running from. The night before I asked Dad if we could visit the shrine in the capital, I had a dream about me and the two of you. At the time, it scared and confused me. To be honest, I'm still scared. But now I know what the dream means."

Suddenly, the emotion went out of Hindel's voice, as though he were talking to two casual acquaintances. "Twenty years ago, the two of you ruined Iom's plans for us. Iom can't take the chance that you might do it again. Which means, neither can I." He stepped aside from the doorway and gestured.

More shadows came into the room. Deanna leaned in front of Natasha, to shield her. "Hindel?" she said, not quite believing what was happening.

"You'll be allowed to get dressed. Then my men will take you somewhere where you can't ruin things for Iom. While we've been talking, they've already collected my brothers and sisters. If you resist, they might get hurt, even killed."

"Listen to me, Hindel," Deanna said. "Iom is just using you. He tried to do the same thing to me twenty years ago, but I fought back because I loved your mother and my friends. Back then, I wasn't even half the man you are today. So you have the strength to make your own decisions, too. You don't have to listen to Iom."

"Iom wasn't trying to 'use' you, father. He was telling you to do the right thing. You didn't listen. I will. Because I understand our god better than you ever have, or will."

He turned and left. As he did, Natasha at last found the strength to say something.

"Hindel, we're your family!"

But there was no response, no indication that he had even heard her.

* * *

Alric was waiting for Hindel outside. "You didn't have to come," the general of Iom said.

"I think you needed me to," Alric answered. "You needed someone to tell you you're doing the right thing. Your parents are good people, to put it mildly, but they'd never accept what you have to do now."

Hindel shook his head. "If I needed reassurance at this point, we'd be in big trouble. I'm just getting started."

A moment later, a soldier approached them. "General Hindel, sir. I have... a report on the gathering of your siblings. We... found only five, sir."

Carla and Dusty had moved out, of course, and he had arranged for them to be taken. But that still left six, even assuming they didn't have friends sleeping over. "Who's missing?"

"The elder of the two boys, sir."

Hindel nodded. "It's just like Josh to sneak out at night. Probably nothing to worry about. Do your best to find him, though. If you can't pick up a good trail, just do a standard scan of the area. He loves to climb trees, so check every one that you see. He's an incorrigible spy, so there's a chance that he's heard us talking and is already fleeing. If you don't find him in the next hour, send messengers to put up wanted posters in all the nearby towns. 200 gold should be enough of a reward."

"Only 200?" Alric said. "Young boys on the run have a way of charming people. Some of 'em might not give up Joshua for any less than 2,000 gold."

The general smiled. "Josh couldn't be a charmer if his life depended on it. Besides, he's just a lone boy too young to even swing a sword. Even if we don't catch him, what can he do?"

As he spotted his troops leading away his five captured siblings, the smile left his face. Though necessary, it was a sad picture to see Iom soldiers abducting children.

Jacinda, looking around, spotted Hindel. Though his body was in Iom form from the neck down and there were only two lamps to provide light in the night's darkness, her eyes flashed with recognition. "Hindel!" she called. "Help us! You have to help us!"

Amy, Dawn, Amber, and Malcolm looked around in mild confusion at Jacinda's pleas. Hindel lowered his head and walked away.


	24. Chapter 24: Fugitive

\- Chapter 24: Fugitive -

Joshua wiped the tears from his eyes as he ran, but they just kept coming. All he'd wanted was a little nighttime outing, but then he saw soldiers approaching the house. He knew it couldn't be good, even before he saw them leading Dawn, Amy, Jacey, Amber, and Malcolm outside at the point of a spear. And then Mom and Dad were brought out too, and directing it all was what looked like some kind of Iom monster with Hindel's head.

_But it had to be some kind of trick. Iom doesn't exist. Aside from what happened with Mom and Dad before they got married, no one's even claimed to have seen Iom in about three hundred years! And back then, folks were really unsophisticated; you could tell them a crack of thunder was Iom and they'd probably believe you. All that stuff about Iom being sealed away is just an obvious excuse to explain why he's never around._

_ It couldn't have really been Hindel, either. Hindel loves Iom, but he'd never have his own family taken away to be sacrificed._

Joshua knew they were going to be sacrificed because Mom had told him about what had happened to her when she was about his age. Iom soldiers had come to her home in Cypress, taken her whole family away, and sacrificed them to Iom. And she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Now the same thing was happening to him. His parents weren't involved in political stuff anymore, so there was no other reason why soldiers would take them away. The presence of the Iom monster, whatever it was, left no more room for doubt.

Eventually he had to plop down in some bushes out of exhaustion. The sticks and leaves poked and smothered him, but at least he wouldn't be seen by soldiers.

His thoughts – and his heartache – settled mostly on his mother. His dad was kind of a wet blanket, and while he'd gotten used to having his siblings around, he didn't like any of the ones he was still living with, except for Amber, who at least had the good taste to laugh at his jokes. Mom, though... she was wonderful.

He remembered sitting on his parents' bed beside her while she dabbed at the wounds he'd gotten from Hindel rubbing his face in the mud with a washcloth soaked in warm water and healing herbs.

"Let me know if it hurts," she said as she did her work. "You poor lad."

For a few seconds he just sat there, enjoying her tender application of the soothing washcloth. It did sting too, but he knew it couldn't be any gentler, and he was old enough that he didn't need to whine. He had a question nagging his mind, but he was afraid to ask it.

"We'll take you to the healer tomorrow, but this should be good enough to let you sleep."

He was silent for a few seconds more, but the question on his mind was now screaming to be asked.

He faced his mother. "Why are you mad at Hindel and not at me?"

She put on a smile, but her eyes showed confusion at the question. "Because you're not the one who was attacking his brother."

"But I started it." His mouth seemed to have lost all contact with his self-preservation instinct. "I broke his statue."

"Hindel shouldn't be so attached to that thing anyway. He certainly shouldn't be hurting you over it." She set aside the washcloth and kissed his forehead. "My wonderful boy."

"Yeah, right," he snorted. "C'mon, Mom. You and Dad are always yelling at me for doing something wrong, more than the rest of us kids combined." Actually, Dad never yelled, but Josh figured that talking in a stern voice was probably his equivalent of yelling. "You probably wish you'd stopped having kids after Amy."

"Don't say that." To his surprise, Mom sounded angry. She firmly clasped his jaw and made him look her in the eye. "Don't ever say that. Every one of you is precious to us. Each of you is wonderful in your own special way. We wouldn't give you up for the world."

"Yeah, sure." He rolled his eyes. "You think I don't ever listen in when you and Dad talk at night? You said I'm like a little demon from Hell."

She released his jaw. They kept looking each other in the eye, though. "Well, that's true." She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him to her warm chest. "You're a mischievous little demon who fills our house with excitement and laughter, and your father and I feel like we got away with the crime of the century by having you."

"Moooooommmmmm," he complained.

"Okay," she said, kissing him on the brow before letting him go. She was still smiling. "No more mushy talk. I'm going to go talk to Hindel, and after that we're having dinner, so don't go anywhere, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." For once, he didn't feel like going anywhere anyway.

They got up off the bed together and went to the door. As she grasped the door handle, she turned and gave Josh a look. "Oh, and if my father and I ever catch you eavesdropping on us again, you're grounded. Understood?"

He nodded.

Looking back now, that conversation meant more to him than he'd realized at the time. His mother knew what he was, knew that he was a hellion who wouldn't ever change, and she still loved him. He didn't get that, couldn't make sense of why anyone would feel that way, but he still treasured it.

But there was another side to it. They'd gotten off the subject, which was that he'd started the fight by breaking Hindel's statue, and he still got off scot-free. While Hindel... He didn't know what Mom's talk with Hindel was like, but he did know that Hindel didn't show up at dinner that night.

_It wasn't fair. Mom said the statue wasn't important, and I don't think it's important either, but it was important to Hindel and that's what counts, isn't it? When I wrecked one of Amber's dolls, Mom got really mad at me, and that statue meant much more to Hindel than a stupid doll does to anyone._

And it was too late to fix that unfairness. Too late to fix any of it. Time and again he'd poked fun at the god that Hindel cherished so much, and Mom had taken his side against Hindel every time he did, and he'd never once let Hindel know he cared about him, not even on the day he'd left. And even if Hindel did come back, what could he say to him? He'd probably just end up poking fun at him and Iom again.

_Screw Hindel, anyway.__Yeah, maybe none of us were as nice to him as we could've been, and maybe he even had a right to be angry at us when he left, but to try to kill us over that? That's completely messed up. He's the one who should be feeling ashamed of himself right now._

He realized that he was thinking about Hindel as if he really were that Iom monster. But he couldn't be. Apart from everything else, Hindel didn't believe in forcing people onto the sacrificial altar, only in sacrificing people who wanted to give themselves to Iom. If it was Hindel, he had to be possessed by a demon or something.

_ Gotta stop thinking about it. Gotta think of what to do._

He started idly breaking off some of the sticks around him. _I can't go to my friends' houses for help; Hindel knows all my friends and that's the first place he'll have them look. Maybe Hal or Shim... Nah. I'm not sure where either of them live, and if I spend much time looking they'll probably catch up with me. I gotta get help somewhere else. But where? Mom and Dad have lots of friends in the capital, but the capital isn't safe now that Hindel's the general. The place is probably full of crazy Iom worshipers._

_ I've only got one real choice. I've got to get to Dusty or Carla. Dusty's probably best. Addelford's not as close, but Dusty's been getting ready to be a hero for forever. He'll know what to do. He'll know how we can save everyone and get Hindel back to normal._

Joshua felt better now that he had a plan. Addelford was a considerable journey away, but at least it was a destination. He got out of the bush, brushed himself off, and moved on.

He thought about Hindel. When he'd left, he'd said none of them cared whether he was there or not. Maybe part of Hindel was still in control, and this was his way of _making_ them all care? About himself, and about the god he thought they all should be worshiping? A way of making his religion, the religion they pretty much ignored, an undeniable part of their lives?

He rapped himself on the forehead. He really needed to stop thinking about it.


	25. Chapter 25: War and Inheritance

\- Chapter 25: War and Inheritance -

"Lady May," Queen Anri said as they each watched their target move on the practice range. "You've proved to be quite useful to the court these past few weeks."

May bowed her head. "You honor me, Your Majesty."

"It's true. Freeze!" The water bucket froze to solid ice, causing it to break off from its handle. "You've been very diligent in your administrative work, and you've brought to the court a certain... dignity and decorum. And yet, you remain an outsider."

"You Majesty?"

"You see, I've found that outsiders can have a useful perspective in certain matters. Who do you think would be the best choice for my heir?"

"Freeze!" Another ice bucket tumbled into the grass. May clasped her hands together and looked down at them. "Forgive my impertinence, but has Your Majesty no thought for marrying? There are female humans who have mothered children at your age."

"Exceptionally rare cases, yes. But even if we could rely upon my fertility, we don't have time for me to raise an heir. We may not even have time for me to bring one to term."

"What do you mean by that, Your Majesty?" May looked sincerely worried.

"Nothing to be alarmed about, in truth. It's just that I've been feeling weaker these last couple weeks. I get dizzy spells now and then, and I feel very tired in the mornings. I think old age is finally taking its toll on me."

"You're not that old, Your Majesty. You can't have much more than 60 years on you."

Anri smiled bitterly. "They've been hard years, though. I've already endured more than more people do in a lifetime. I must choose an heir now, so I can move on."

"Very well, Your Majesty," May said, suddenly changing her tone. "How about Lord Andrew?"

"He would be a very good choice," Anri watched as the servants set four more buckets swinging. "But he and his wife are unable to conceive."

"I did not know that. But surely, they must have __some __heir..."

"Yes, their niece. But let me tell you, May, I could not sleep at night knowing that that horrible young lady is just two generations away from ruling Guardiana."

"I see." May gave a smile that was somewhat self-deprecating, but with a touch of humor. "By now it must be clear to Your Majesty that being an outsider has its disadvantages."

"Nonetheless, your opinion would be appreciated."

"Very well. I see no fault in your reasoning for not choosing Lord Andrew, though of course your assessment of his niece may be inaccurate for all I know. That would then leave Sir Ruce as the best candidate by my reckoning."

"Ah?" Anri said, nonplussed. May was the first person she'd asked who favored Ruce. "Why Sir Ruce?"

"Well, I confess I knew him only very briefly before joining Your Majesty's court." She turned to watch the swinging buckets. "We met during the war with Iom, and I've spoken with him at diplomatic affairs several times since. We both participated in King Nicholas's coronation trials – I'm sure you remember those, Your Majesty. To come to the point, Sir Ruce has always struck me as intelligent, capable, cunning, and perfectly honest. He has children whom I am sure he is raising to emulate those qualities. He would make a fine king."

"In essence, I agree," Anri nodded. "The trouble with Ruce is, he has no royal blood."

"True, but ultimately not a problem. Ruce is a hero of Guardiana. If my understanding of this nation is at all accurate, the people of Guardiana love heroes, and will warmly welcome one as the successor to a royal line that ends with you. After all, didn't your own royal line begin with a heroic commoner?"

"Not exactly. Freeze!" The spell struck both of her targets, sending two more buckets of ice tumbling down. "Percival __was __a commoner, but he married into the royal line. And Ruce can hardly marry me, even if he were not married already."

"Hmm." May stared at her own targets, her eyes darkened with concern. "Freeze!" Her aim was true, but not her timing; one bucket hit the ground, while the other continued to swing. She looked back to Anri and flashed her familiar bright smile. "I'll admit, Ruce's bloodline is less than ideal. Nonetheless, I am confident that people will accept him as your heir, so long as he is your choice. Guardiana has more faith in your wisdom and Ruce's integrity than they do in royal blood."

"I see. Thank you, May." Anri put on a smile. While the attendants cleared away the buckets, they turned and headed back towards the keep. "You've been more helpful than you know. I have one other matter I wanted to ask you about: Iom's invasion of Emild. What do you make of it?"

May lowered her eyes. "Your Majesty speaks so cavalierly of the conquest of my homeland."

"Forgive me. But you had left your homeland voluntarily. I thought..."

"My loyalty is now to you, Queen Anri, but I will always love Emild." She looked back to her face. "I forgive you, of course. And I know you would not ask such a thing out of idle curiosity. On the surface, the invasion certainly seems to be unprovoked. King Kay is far from perfect, but he is not evil or vicious of heart, nor foolish enough to provoke a powerful neighbor like Iom. However, it is quite possible, even likely, that the subversive forces I spoke to you of have been antagonizing Iom."

"Is it also possible that Iom has simply turned their eyes to conquest once more? I've heard they now have a sharp young general."

"It is possible." May paused. "However, in either case I would avoid getting involved, at least for the moment."

Anri looked at her with surprise. "Why is that?"

"First of all because, as I said, we don't know all the circumstances. Second, rather like myself in your court, Guardiana is still essentially an outside to the continent. Emild may not appreciate having our army in their lands, even if it is to aid them. Last, and most important, Guardiana is too distant to respond promptly. By the time our army reached Emild, Cypress would have already stepped in to help. Tyber as well, since the queen of Emild is from their royal family. Even Sharland, if King Saul sees something to gain, and he probably will."

"What if you're wrong? What if the other nations decide to not commit to war with Iom until Guardiana has joined Emild's side?"

"Then Emild will undoubtedly be overrun before we can assist," May said sadly. "Emild's army is sizable, but unprepared for invasion. Iom will have taken out all their major strongholds in no time. In such an event I would have nothing but enthusiasm for the liberation of Emild, but haste would do us no good. Better to wait until we have a clear understanding of the situation." She pushed forth a smile. "Do not be aggrieved on Emild's account, Your Majesty. I am acquainted with the parents of Iom's new general, and to a lesser extent with the young man himself. He will not allow cruelty to be visited upon Emild's citizens."

"You are sure of that?"

"Quite sure, Your Majesty."

"Very well," Anri nodded. "Thank you for your advice."

"It is my pleasure, Your Majesty."

They were now at the entrance to the keep, and there they parted. May went off for a walk, while Anri went inside.

As she did, she spotted an attendant and caught his attention with a tilt of her hand. "Have Sir Ruce sent to my study immediately," she ordered.

The attendant saluted her and hurried off. There was a time when receiving an order from Queen Anri would have left any male grinning, trembling, and/or blushing like a lovestruck fool, but those days were gone. While age had tarnished her looks very little, it had nonetheless made her a less attractive prospect. Anri was glad of this; she had no interest in affection from any man but the one she'd lost in the war with Runefaust, and preferred simple discipline to flattery.

As she entered her study, she reflected on her conversation with May. It was tempting to read her unexpected opposition to aiding Emild as evidence that she was still under Iom's control, but two things ruled that out. First, though before their people King Amelo and Queen Gillian professed loyalty to Iom, Anri knew they were anything but devout. Iom would thus gain little to nothing from his nation conquering Emild, and May had to know that as well. Second, King Nicholas had assured her that May was free of Iom, and she didn't believe May could have pulled the wool over his eyes.

All the same, it was a bit odd. While May's reasoning was solid, nothing she said added up to a compelling reason to leave Emild to its fate.

At any rate, her own opinion remained unchanged. Had Guardiana gotten involved when Woldol began his coup, the war with Cypress would have been averted. And had Guardiana gotten involved when Darksol began working his influence, her father would still be alive.

In those cases, they'd had no way of knowing something ill was going on. But this time...

A knocking broke in on her thoughts.

"Come in."

The door opened; it was Ruce. "You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?"

"Yes. Sit down." He sat, propped his chin on his bent elbow, and looked at her expectantly. He seemed to know what was coming. "I've made up my mind, Ruce. I want you to be my heir."

He nodded at her. "Your Majesty, I think you ought to ask the input of a few more people in the court before you make a decision like that."

"I already have asked just about everyone, Ruce."

He nodded again. "And they all recommended your cousin, didn't they?"

Anri felt a sudden flash of anger. "Only because Ellen has been bribing them with promises of honors, promotions, and advantageous arranged marriages! She's so brazenly corrupt, even Ken has overheard her bribing a noble for his recommendation!"

Infuriatingly, Ruce nodded yet again. "Your Majesty, that just proves that she know how the game is played. Once you've informed her that she needs to be more discreet with her machinations, that can only make her a more effective ruler."

"And a more corrupt one!"

Ruce shrugged. "What difference does that make once she has what she wants, namely the throne? Where the welfare of a nation is concerned, better by far a corrupt ruler than an incompetent one."

"That's a deplorable attitude, and you know it," she returned with her usual coolness. "Besides, not everyone recommended her. Both Ken and May said you were the best choice."

"Which just further substantiates my suspicions about May. Ken is out of touch with the court, and biased due to his friendship with my father, so it's understandable that he picked the wrong man. May must know better."

"If you're suggesting that May has some evil scheme which revolves around you becoming king, you should know that you weren't her first choice. She recommended you only after I turned down her suggestion of Lord Andrew."

To her satisfaction, this time Ruce did not nod, smile, or shrug, but froze for a brief second. "That's... well..."

"I don't see how she could have anticipated my rejecting Lord Andrew. He'd be a fine successor in most respects, and I hadn't discussed his prospects as future ruler with anyone."

"Fair point," Ruce sighed. "Let's forget about May, then. Her opinion doesn't change the fact that you'd be going against nearly your entire court in you named me your heir. In fact, she's raised an interesting point. I hadn't known you considered Lord Andrew a worthy candidate for kingship."

Anri raised her visible eyebrow. "What of it?"

"Well, if you find me preferable to your cousin solely on the basis of moral integrity, then why not Lord Andrew?"

"So that's it," Anri said, in the manner of one who has solved a puzzle they've been working on for months.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're not worried about whether the people will accept a dwarf king. You're just afraid of the responsibility that comes with ruling Guardiana. Otherwise you'd never have snatched so desperately at a poor alternative like Lord Andrew."

"A poor alternative? But you yourself said -"

"All I said was that he would be fine in most respects. The remaining respects count for too much. You can't expect me to believe people will find the notion of that niece of his on the throne any more palatable than a dwarf."

For a moment, Ruce looked startled. Then he chuckled. "You think __I'm __desperately snatching? First of all, my reasons for not wanting to be king don't matter – only the wisdom, or lack thereof, in your choice. Second, you're grossly exaggerating the importance people place on how likable the future ruler's personality is. Most people are mature enough to look for more substantial qualities in their monarch. Third, if you're really set on having an heir with no connection to your bloodline, Lord Andrew is far from the only one who would be better than me."

"Ruce," she said firmly. "I have no interest in discussing this any further. I've considered all the possibilities from every angle. I'm naming you my heir."

Ruce studied her face, and found only finality. He stood up with a weary sigh. "You're making an awful mistake, Your Majesty. I hope you realize that before it's too late to undo it."

With that, he excused himself and left the study.


	26. Chapter 26: Checkmate by Castling

\- Chapter 26: Checkmate by Castling -

Adorn fluttered down for a landing on the hill, where the others were waiting for her. She nodded. "They're coming."

"What are their numbers?" Hindel asked. "Is it the main Emild army?"

Adorn stood silent for a moment. "General Hindel, may I say something?"

"Call me just Hindel. We're the Shining Force; there shouldn't be any formalities among us."

"General Hindel, I am not one of your friends. I don't worship Iom. I'm not even sure that people _should _worship Iom, especially not to the extent that you're leading the country towards."

Hindel shook his head. "I intend to change your mind about that, but it's not important for now. You've fought alongside us for what is right, and that's all it takes to make you one of the Shining Force. Maybe you aren't my friend, but you are definitely my comrade."

"He'ssss right," Redgar spoke up. "We all came into thisss for our own reasonssss, but we are in it together."

Adorn looked uncertain. "The problem here isn't camaraderie. I don't know how I feel about going along with all this."

"'All this'?" Hindel queried.

"Arresting Iom's national heroes, who also happen to be your parents, and invading Emild. I joined this company because I wanted to see justice visited on the evil men responsible for what happened in Rebora. How do these things help us get them?"

"I understand." He looked over the entire group that was with him: the six other members of the Shining Force (counting Bradford, a dwarf who had joined their ranks shortly before they left the castle), and King Amelo. "You're _all_ wondering about where this is going, aren't you?"

There were a couple nods, but Amelo spoke up, "I think I have a reasonable idea of why we must conquer Emild, based on our earlier discussions. My only concern is whether it's absolutely safe for me to be along on this expedition of war."

"How touching that you're sssso consssserned for the livesss of your troopssss," Redgar snarled. Amelo squirmed under his gaze.

"All your concerns matter," Hindel said, looking on them all with affection. "Iom doesn't ask that anyone follow him blindly. King Amelo, there is absolutely no risk of you being harmed. Your being killed would only incite the righteous fury of Iom's people, which is the last thing our enemies would want. If anything unforeseen threatens your life, I promise I will do everything necessary to get you out of Emild safe.

"As for Adorn's question... The truth is, for the time being we're on the defensive against the people who caused the bloodshed in Rebora. Iom started making preparations for my conception as soon as he became aware of their intentions for our nation, but even so, their plans are already dangerously close to fruition. For all we know, they may have the political strings in place to set all of Iom's neighbors at war with us. It's unlikely, but we can't take that chance. We need to unify the continent under Iom's rule so that we can fend off their attack. Divided, the nations stand no chance against them. I promise, Adorn, I'll do everything I can to see these people brought to justice. But I can't do that if they take over the entire continent."

"The threat... is that large?" Kellen said.

"It is. Iom doesn't know everything about our enemies, but they're far better equipped than us, and until we unite the continent, they greatly outnumber us as well."

There was a grim silence. Adorn put forth, "But why are we starting with Emild?"

"Three reasons. First, it should be a relatively easy victory, and we need a few victories quickly if we're to turn the tide. Second, Iom and I have already planted some seeds in Cypress and Guardiana, and we need to give them a chance to sprout. Third, Emild is the one country which we _know_ is already under their thumb. We may even be able to find out more about their operations by wresting control of Emild from them."

"How do we know Emild is under their control?"

"Iom has a servant who was installed in the court of Emild until recently. She noticed what was going on there."

"I see." Adorn folded her arms. "Can you show us proof that any of this is true?"

"I... no, I can't." Hindel had to restrain his frustration. Everything had been delivered to him by Iom so clearly, that to have it questioned like this... "Iom has shown me all of it, so I know it's true. But none of you can communicate with Iom the way I can, so there's no way I can give you my same knowledge. All I can do is ask that you all trust Iom. He's guided us rightly thus far, and so long as we keep faith in him, he will give us the strength to get through this. Trust him to deliver us from the evil that is coming."

Alric, Nancie, Redgar, and Bradford all nodded reverently at Hindel's words. But Adorn shook her head. "I don't trust Iom."

Hindel didn't know what else to say. "If that's how you feel, then you're free to -"

"I don't trust Iom," she repeated. "I trust you... Hindel."

Now he really didn't know what to say. Iom was of course more deserving of trust than himself, but so long as Adorn was fighting on the right side, should he object? "...And you, Kellen?"

"Me? ...I feel more or less the same as Adorn, I guess. I'm not a disciple of Iom. But you've shown that you want to do right by our nation, and that you can do it. I was afraid that the Rebora scandal would lead to bloodshed, even... regicide and civil war. Instead, you settled it peacefully. You've given me the freedom to serve both my king and our people faithfully. That's more than enough for me."

Hindel nodded. "All right. Then, if we're all in this together... Adorn, could you please tell me how many Emild troops are on their way?"

"Enough to be sure that it's the main Emild army," she answered. "It would take a miracle for us to defeat a force this size."

"Good."

* * *

Anri arranged for the announcement of her heir to be held in a public square. This of course had the advantage of keeping Ellen from controlling the audience reaction; she couldn't bribe every commoner on the street the way she'd very nearly bribed every noble and official in her court. But it also suited her general inclinations; she wanted to be remembered as a ruler of the people, not of a small clique of gentry.

However, she had to admit that her past appearances may not have conveyed the intended impression. Looking over the crowd of dirty faces and work-worn hands before her, she felt strangely disoriented; these were_ not _the same people she'd been seeing at her audiences. For some years now, she'd been neglecting to do tours of the kingdom, assuming that by simply making herself _available _to the common people, she was remaining in touch with them. Plainly she had been deluding herself on that count.

No matter. Whether or not they'd been seeing her face of late, she'd been devoting her every waking hour to their benefit, as she had been ever since her father died. And once the announcement was done, she'd begin arrangements for a tour of the kingdom. She hoped she'd be able to do it before her deteriorating health entered its final decline.

The people, both common and noble-born, were watching her with anticipation. "My people," she said, raising an arm. "You know I called you here for the long-awaited naming of my heir. I have given the matter long and careful consideration – long enough, I fear, to make my people anxious. But the thought I have put into this has brought me to an ideal choice, to a man who is without peer in integrity, courage, intelligence, and most important, devotion to Guardiana and her people. He is a man who shares not my blood or family, but -" At this point a growl of dismayed gasps and protests pulsed through the crowd, but Anri kept going after only a slight pause, "- but my commitment to ensuring that Guardiana remains a land of peace, justice, and plenty. My people, behold my heir, and your future king: Sir Ruce!"

Ruce stood up and came forward at Anri's prompting, but her words were met with a roar of dismay and outrage.

The queen stood there, astonished, as the crowd vented angry cries and even the occasional hurled object, all directed not at Ruce, but at her. Out of the roar, she caught snatches like "Guardiana's inheritance, not yours" and "A hero is not a ruler." But it wasn't the anger that caught the queen most off-guard. The tone of the crowd was like they felt... betrayed.

Ruce turned and gave the queen a look. "I warned you, Your Majesty."

She tried to think of something to say to her people, something that might be heard over the angry roar. She was still trying when spots began dancing in front of her eyes and her vision began to sway and blur. Her heart sloshed about in her chest, and she lost track of which way was up and which way was down. She distantly knew that she was having another one of her dizzy spells, but it felt as though the world really was moving out of her control, twisting and turning away from her, becoming so distorted as to be unrecognizable to her aging eyes.

A hand caught her by the arm, keeping her from falling. "Your Majesty?"

Anri wanted to answer, but the roar of the crowd below her threatened to drown out anything that she might say. As the dizziness further overwhelmed her, she thought she could hear whispers in the crowd's roar, saying, "Ice Queen, Ice Queen, Ice Queen, stop her, stop her, stop her."

"Let me," Anri managed to say. "Let me speak. I am your queen. Let me explain why Sir Ruce must be..."

But she could no longer even stand properly. Her guards escorted her away from the scene. Acknowledging her present weakness, she allowed it.

* * *

"Soldiers of Iom!" a centaur standing near the center of the army called out. "I am General Leduc! Please explain why you have come to Emild bearing hostile arms!"

General Hindel stared back down at the army at the bottom of the hill in silence for a moment. Then he said, "All right, I'm not going to hold a shouting conversation with him. Adorn, would you mind...?"

"Of course not."

The birdwoman snatched Hindel up in her arms and flew him towards the Emild general. A few archers took aim in their direction, but the sight of a human head mounted on the form of Iom apparently was enough to make them hesitate to initiate hostilities. Adorn dropped him off about ten meters short of General Leduc.

"It's pretty simple, general," Hindel said. "We want King Kay to surrender control of Emild to His Royal Highness, King Amelo."

"You arrogant fool!" Leduc returned. "Do you think we are intimidated by your tiny force?"

"It's not a matter of intimidation. Though I should tell you, we have the god Iom on our side."

"Phah! King Kay's father would not cower before your god, and neither will we!"

Hindel nodded. "That's good. You're not just blustering; you really are a brave man. You have my respect. But that's all the more reason why I need you with me, not against me."

"If your combat prowess is as pathetic as your persuasion abilities -"

"I wish I had the time to really persuade you to our side. But Emild's time has already run out." He shouted, "Kellen!"

The mage responded, "Egress!"

Hindel and the rest of his force disappeared.

They reappeared directly outside Emild's royal castle. Kellen and Redgar had covertly visited the place while Hindel and Alric were overseeing the capture of Hindel's family, thus allowing him to return there using Egress. Once they'd lured General Leduc's army away from the castle, this gave them the opportunity to strike at the heart of Emild with little resistance.

The only problem was that they of course could not safely Egress to the castle's inside. But Hindel was prepared to deal with that issue.

"Alright, the main gate's open, just as we'd hoped. Alric and Adorn, you take out the guard on the left, and I'll handle the one on the right. Move!"

They charged the gate, ever aware that if it closed before they got through, it would mean a much longer battle. The guard on the right swung his sword at Hindel, but with Iom's power infusing his body, he simply caught it by the blade, ripped it from the guard's hands, and tossed it aside. While the guard gaped at him, Hindel lifted him up by his chain mail vest and threw him into some nearby bushes.

Within seconds, the force had made it past the gate. Bradford cut the rope holding up the gate, and it slammed shut behind them.

"Follow me," Hindel said, striding through the halls, listening to Iom's voice for directions. Iom had had servants who lived in this castle, so he knew very well how to get to the king and queen's chambers.

As they'd suspected, there were few guards about the castle. Emild had long been a relatively nonagressive nation, and nearly 20 years of peace had further dulled their wartime readiness, so they had carelessly sent nearly all their troops to confront General Hindel and his force, leaving the castle practically defenseless. The few guards they did encounter were taken out swiftly and almost silently. In just a few minutes, they had reached the doors to the royal chambers.

Hindel flung the doors open. Per King Kay's usual habit, as told to Hindel by Iom, he had risen from bed but was still in his nightgown. "Good morning, Your Majesty," Hindel said.

"What's going on here?" King Kay's eyes widened when he recognized one of the group. "King Amelo?"

"Iom's invasion has succeeded, Your Majesty," Hindel explained. "King Amelo is here to personally accept your surrender."

"I don't believe it. Any moment, my guards will be here to slay you."

"Even if that is so, what are you going to do until they arrive?" Hindel stepped forward and gravely laid a clawed hand upon Kay's shoulder. "My god would be immensely pleased to have another royal sacrifice. The only reason you're still alive is because we need someone to sign the articles of surrender."

Kay swallowed. "Why are you doing this?" he managed.

"As hard as -"

"I'm asking King Amelo, not you."

The king's boldness caught Hindel off-guard, especially laced as it was with a hint of deep-set anger. But it did not worry him; Iom had assured him that King Kay was not a threat to his plans. He gave King Amelo a brief nod.

"This was not my idea, Your Majesty," King Amelo answered. "This conquest is our god's will, as conveyed through his servant, General Hindel."

"But you must have approved it!"

"Yes. But Your Majesty, if what Hindel tells me is true, this conquest is for your own good."

"My own good!" Kay looked ready to seize the nearest piece of furniture and swing it at someone. "And once you've taken control, what assurance have I that your demon general won't sacrifice me to Iom anyway, and all my family as well?"

Hindel studied Kay for a moment. It was so strange, seeing someone react in this way to Iom. Strange, and unpleasant. But they needed to take Emild one way or another. "Your Majesty, no one in Emild will be made into an unwilling sacrifice, unless they are our enemies. You have my word on that."

"You threatened me just a minute ago!"

"Only because I thought it would be the easiest way to get you to surrender. Clearly, that was a mistake." He sighed. "I can't expect you to trust me, either; you don't know me. But you have had one of Iom's servants in your court, haven't you?"

"One of his _former _servants," Kay corrected sharply. "I wouldn't have kept her on if she still served Iom."

"That's not the point. This noblewoman... She's told Iom that you are in danger from some of the younger members of your own court. She says that unless we take control of Iom, you will likely be thrown off your throne."

Kay's eyes widened. "Lady May... told you that? Then she does still serve Iom after all?"

"She serves you, Your Majesty." He felt a strange lump in his throat as he talked of the woman who had helped make him Iom's chosen servant. "She collaborates with Iom only to the extent that it will help you. We can't force her to do anything more, even if we wanted to. But she is convinced that we will keep you and your family safe."

King Kay fell into a chair. "I... What am I supposed to do? For months now, I've been looking for a way out for my wife, my children, and my siblings. But I just don't know what they... I'm not even certain who _they_ are, really, and it's so hard to know who to trust... I don't know what they intend to do with me and my family. If I make a move to escape, will they kill us all? And how can I abandon Emild? I need help... and I trust May. That sounds so strange, after what she did while she was under Iom's control, but she's the most trustworthy person I know." He looked up at Hindel. "But Iom took my father away. He's almost as good as taken my brother Ian, as well. How can I put our lives in his hands?"

"Your Majesty." This time it was King Amelo who spoke. "You are not putting your lives into Iom's hands, and it was not Iom who took your father. So long as Iom is sealed away, he is little more than a concept. It was my father who killed your father."

"I don't blame you for that."

"Then trust me. And trust General Hindel. If it were royal sacrifices he were after, I wouldn't be alive right now. Frankly, I don't like entrusting myself to Hindel's hands, either, but I'm coming to see that the alternatives are much worse. If either of us is to survive," - he pulled forth a piece of paper and set it on Kay's lap - "...then you must sign this."

Kay spent a minute reading over the articles, then smiled sadly. "I suppose my decision isn't really important anyway, is it? You've clearly won the war. Whether that's for Emild's good or ill, I can't change it. I had my chance to keep this country together as king, and I've failed."

He signed the paper.

Then he handed it to King Amelo. "It's over to you now."


	27. Chapter 27: Question and Answer Time

\- Chapter 27: Question and Answer Time -

"Now then," said the man with the strange pieces of glass suspended in front of his eyes. "You four must be the advance scouts, yes? How many others are there in your party?"

Their answers came simultaneously.

"Over three hundred!"

"It's just us!"

Caleb and Taela glared at each other over their conflicting answers. Gyan glared at them both.

The man released a little puff of breath like a sigh. "We do this the hard way then, yes? Bind the kyantol female."

Taela looked on, seemingly bewildered, as two soldiers advanced on her and took hold of her arms.

Burning with indignation at this sight, Caleb snapped out his bo. "Hey, get your hands off -"

"Shut up and drop it, Caleb," Gyan growled. "Do you want to get the both of you killed?"

Caleb hesitated, and got a good second look at all the crossbows aimed at them. He accordingly dropped his weapon.

The soldiers forced Taela's arms behind her back, making her let out a little cry, and bound her wrists together with what looked like a pair of metal bracelets. Caleb fumed, but he fumed in silence and inaction. The glass man, meanwhile, had set down his crossbow and was sharpening a cruelly curved knife.

"Bring her here," he ordered. His troops did as he said, forcing Taela onto her knees before him. He came around behind her and squatted down so his face was next to hers. Looking directly at Caleb, he lifted up the hem of her robe and slipped the knife underneath. Taela squirmed, but with his other hand firmly on her shoulder she could not move. "Since you seem to care most strongly for the female, boy, I'll ask you. The truth, this time. How many others are in your party?"

Caleb watched Taela anxiously. "Taela was the one who was lying," he answered. "It's just the four of us."

The arm under Taela's robes shifted, and Taela let out an unholy scream. While her companions looked on in horror, a crimson stain formed on her robe.

"It seems I wasn't entirely clear, yes? I already know that you are both lying. I don't know exactly how many are in your party, of course, or I would not be asking. But I am certain that it is somewhere between four and three hundred. So you have only two choices. Either tell me the truth, or make your friend suffer further damage to her anatomy."

Caleb was very pale now. "Look, there's been some sort of mix-up. Maybe there are others wandering around here, but our party really is just the four of us."

This time, Taela absolutely shrieked. The crimson stain grew.

"I don't make mix-ups," the man said gravely. "Why don't you stop playing games with me? It is plain from the look on your face that what you are making me do to this girl pains you deeply – though not a third as deeply as it pains her, I promise you."

"What do you want me to say?" Caleb said, trembling. "I'll lie and say there are 30 or 230 of us, if that's what you want. But if you want the truth, all I can do is keep telling you, there's only us f-"

"For pity's sake, Caleb!" Taela hollered. "Just tell him the truth, damn you!"

"I _am_ -"

"There's two more of us, okay?! Rimeon and Prince Barro!"

The glass man nodded. "And where are they, my girl?"

"They were sending a report back to Prince Eli. They'll be here in less than an hour."

"With help?"

"No, just themselves."

"Excellent." He withdrew the knife from underneath her robe and stood up. "The truth is such a relief, yes?"

Taela said nothing, just stared at the ground, panting with emotional exhaustion. Her friends watched her, Karis with sympathy, Caleb with incredulity.

"Well," the man said, pushing the wire suspending the two pieces of glass back up along his nose. "We need to prepare for our two final guests, yes? You may bind the other three now."

In short order, Caleb, Karis, Taela, and Gyan all similarly had their hands bound behind their backs with a pair of metal bracelets. For Karis, they additionally secured a noose around her neck and hung it from a tree branch so that she couldn't run away. The others they simply made to sit under the tree.

Gyan cast his good eye over his young companions. "Is it now clear to everyone why, when an enemy asks you for information, you keep your mouth shut for as long as possible?"

Taela and Caleb both said nothing. But Karis exploded, "Hey! They deceived them for as long as they could!"

"They'd have gone longer if they'd shut up for a while. Then they might have believed you guys when you did talk." He sighed. "Now it's up to me to mess things up for them before they nab Rimeon and Barro." He began to squirm around a bit. "No sudden moves until I say so. Otherwise you'll get Karis killed."

"Like we have a choice," Taela sniffed. "We're tied up, remember?"

"Shut up, Taela," Caleb said testily. "Obviously Gyan has a plan."

"I wouldn't say a plan, exactly," Gyan admitted. "The nice thing about being a Royal Protector is usually your duty is to let the king come up with a plan. But I've had to get out of plenty of fixes on my own, so if you kids stick close to me and do as I do, we should be okay. Just be ready to grab your weapons and hit them as hard as you can when I say 'now'."

"Hel - lo?" Taela said. "Tied up?"

"No, you're not. I don't know what those things they put on us are, but they weren't built to handle a beastman's strength."

"Huh?" Caleb said. "You mean..."

"Shhh. Keep acting as if everything's going according to their plan." Gyan performed a rueful glare at their captors. "We need to wait for the right moment."

* * *

"Okay, now!" Gary whispered, and gave Joshua a little shove forward.

Josh gulped silently, but did not lose his nerve. He strolled forward, keeping each of his footsteps quiet enough that they wouldn't be heard, yet nonchalant. His target loomed within reach, and Jamie stepped forward to do his part.

"Excuse me, sir, I think I've lost my way. I was just with my mom, and..."

The man had come to a stop, and was plainly listening. As Jamie kept talking, Josh's hand darted forward and slipped into the man's pocket. His heart pounded. He slowly grasped the coin purse within and drew it out.

"...swore I was right with her, but then I looked and she was gone, and now I can't seem to remember if this street runs North or..."

The purse slipped past the last seam of the pocket, and Joshua stealthfully scampered back towards Gary. The two turned the corner and were then out of sight.

Josh could still hear Jamie saying, "...so if you could – Oh wait, there she is now. Hey, mom!"

Joshua and Gary didn't stop until they were a good three blocks away. Gary turned to him and smiled. "You got it, right?"

Josh held up the coin purse.

"Beautiful! A clean snatch on your first try! You're a real natural at this, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know it," Josh grinned, though the grin was false. It was true; he did seem to have a knack for pickpocketing. He'd had no trouble in grasping the basic skills involved, and not only had his first real attempt gone without a hitch, it had felt good. It had felt invigorating and right.

But he knew it was wrong. His parents had taught him that. Given the choice, he'd much rather be earning his room and board by plying his skills for entertainment, or even by taking charity from some kind stranger. But he'd seen the wanted posters all over town, and he knew the only people he could trust not to turn him in were criminels. He, Gary, and Jamie could trust each other by simple virtue of the fact that any one of them could turn the other two over to the law if they were to betray him. There wasn't any other way to survive on his own without ending up on a sacrificial slab along with the rest of his family.

"Hey, how much did we get?" Jamie asked, having caught with them.

"Yeah, let's see," Gary prodded. Josh opened up the purse, and Gary whistled. "Not too bad for your first haul. 40% of that goes to Jamie, of course, and I get 20% for teaching you how, but even after that you've got enough to pay the boss a week's rent."

"A week?" Josh said. "Yeeeeaaaahhhh, I'm not planning to stay around that long. I just need a place to stay for tonight, and then I've got to get moving on to Addelford and find my brother."

"Aw come on, man, really?" Gary groaned. "You should stay here with us. I mean it, you're a natural at this. With some more experience, you could be the best there is."

"Yeah," Jamie put in. "What do you want with your brother, anyway?"

Josh fidgeted. "It's complicated, but I'm in trouble, and so is he. I've gotta get to him fast."

"Look, you'll be safe with us until whatever the deal is with the wanted posters dies down," Gary said. "And if your brother can't take care of himself, what can you do?"

"Warn him, that's what. He doesn't even know what's coming for him!"

"Okay, settle down." Gary put a hand around his shoulders. "Look, let's just forget it for now. Maybe you'll feel different after you meet the boss and see the digs we've got. If not, that's cool. You can go and warn your brother. And after you've warned him, why not come back and stay with us here? I mean, it's what, not even a day's journey between here and Addelford. Sound good?"

"...Yeah, okay." The scary part was that it really did sound good. He liked Gary and Jamie. It was nice to finally be free from taking orders from his parents and dealing with his siblings' brattiness, bossiness, and inability to appreciate his talents. He wanted to live his life on his own, the way Carla already was. He felt like he fit in.

But he knew what Mom would say. He knew how disappointed in him she'd be for stealing even once, even just to get enough for a meal and a place to stay the night. And though he told himself that Mom didn't have to know about any of this, he knew that that wasn't the point.

He walked alongside Gary and Jamie as they headed back to the place the boys called home, and was thankful that he didn't have to make a decision about this tonight.

* * *

Their captors seemed quite smugly confident, Caleb noted. They weren't keeping much of a watch over the four of them at all. He supposed he couldn't blame them; they knew they had only two young and inexperienced foes, with no idea of the trouble they were walking into, to deal with.

Thanks to Taela. He still could hardly believe it.

He decided it would be better to make some conversation than to dwell on that. He spoke up, fairly loudly so as to get their attention, "So, what do you guys want with the king and queen?"

He was answered with a sneer. "What makes you think we'll tell you that?"

Caleb turned red. "Hey, I was just asking. You don't need to be so touchy about it. You're going to either kill us or make us slaves anyway, so what difference does it make if we know?"

Another of the crossbow wielders, a short man with a bulbous nose, turned to the first and remarked, "He's go a point."

"Yeah, whatever." The sneerer sniffed, but then turned to Caleb. "Okay, it's simple: Cypress will be a lot easier to conquer without their king and queen."

"'Easier', not 'easy'," Caleb grinned. "I guess you know what your odds are."

"Wait a second." Karis had gone pale. "Are you saying that King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair are... dead?"

The man with the bulbous nose grinned. "What do you think?"

Karis's face twisted into pronounced ridges of fury. "You bastards!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, and lunged forward until the noose around her neck was fully extended. "You murdering bastards!"

"Now!" Gyan pounced on the nearest enemy, snapping his crossbow in half before delivering a blow to a vital nerve cluster, knocking him out.

Caleb and Taela followed his lead. Taela used a Spark spell to stun three of their foes, while Caleb wrested a crossbow from a startled enemy and aimed it at the others, holding them momentarily at bay.

Gyan used that moment to tend to Karis, stretching up to grasp the chain linking her two bracelets and snap it, just as he had covertly done for Caleb and Taela's. As he finished, two arrows sliced through the air in their direction. He deflected them with his armor, then charged towards the culprits.

"Hey, wait!" Karis cried. "The noose!"

"Deal with it yourself!" Gyan growled as he hefted his two opponents to knock them together. "I'm not tall enough to reach it!"

Caleb and Taela were still laying down covering fire. More than a fair share of arrows came their way. Caleb took one in his right leg, but after a moment he found that by gritting his teeth and kneeling in just the right way, he could get past the pain. His aim wasn't the best, but his mother always told him she could barely hit a castle wall from ten paces, and he consoled himself that at least he was doing much better than her.

Taela, though, was doing well by any standard. She'd had no combat training, but her magic training seemed to serve her well enough. She could aim, she knew plenty of spells, and her magical stamina was holding out longer than he'd have expected.

Karis, meanwhile, was still restrained by her noose. Though her hands were free, the noose was on too tight to simply slip it over her head, and she was having trouble figuring out the knot. The fact that she wasn't in a position to look at the knot, combined with the pressure of the battlefield, made her task difficult. She had to blindly fumble at the knot, all the while aware that every second she struggled was one in which the enemy had a clear shot at her heart.

Then she spotted the man with glass suspended in front of his eyes. He had taken cover behind a tree and was taking aim at her. He couldn't possibly miss.

He could, however, get hauled up into the air and hurled against the nearest tree by a young beastman. And that worked well enough for Karis.

"Rimeon!" she called out with surprised joy.

"You alright, Karis?"

"I can't get this noose off!"

"Hang on!"

Rimeon pounded across the battlefield with the speed of a leopard, striking down one of their enemies along the way. As he approached Karis, he said, "I'm going to have to get up on your back! Otherwise I won't be able to reach!"

"O-okay!" she stammered, accepting that it was the only way and steeling herself for it. Even so, the sudden sensation of Rimeon leaping on her back made her stiffen up and blush bright red at the indignity. She thanked the Light that at least there were no other centaurs around to witness this humiliation.

Rimeon worked quickly. Though the knot had been done fairly tight, from his position it was easy to see how it was done, and in seconds he had the noose off. He immediately jumped off of Karis's back.

"All right!" she cheered. "Now just toss me my lance, and I'll... I'll.."

Before her eyes, the last of the enemy warriors took off into the woods. All that was left were their fallen comrades and Karis's friends, tending to their wounds.

Barro surveyed the battlefield. "It looks like they all decided to flee when Rimeon downed their leader. Good work, Rimeon."

"Save the credit for yourself," the beastman grunted. "It was your idea."

"Damn it!" Karis cursed. "So I don't get to beat even one of them?"

Her friends all turned to stare at her. She blushed and went silent.

"I'm sorry you all got attacked while we were away," Barro said, graciously changing the subject. "Still, this works out to be a good stroke of luck. Now we have someone to pump for information." He approached the man who was slumped against a tree. The thing made of transparent glass and wire had fallen off his face when Rimeon threw him.

"Good luck?" Taela exclaimed. "We were almost killed!"

"I don't think so. All of them had crossbows, yet our only loss is a single arrow in Caleb's leg? Look at Karis. She's a centaur, and for the whole fight she was bound to a tree branch. You couldn't ask for an easier target. And yet, not a scratch on her."

Caleb spoke up, "I figured they weren't shooting at her because she wasn't a threat to them." He glanced at Karis. "Um. Just because she was tied up, I mean."

"That's a thought. But it's still strange for them to have done such a poor job of killing us overall. Hey, Taela, you know Rouse, right?"

"Yes. Totally worthless spell if you ask me, but I know it."

Barro knew it wasn't so worthless when fighting enemies who had sleep magic; his cousin Nicholas probably could have used Rouse more than once in the wars with Woldol and Iom, if only it had been developed back then. But arguing the point, especially with Taela, would be a waste of precious time. "Use it to wake up their leader."

Barro knelt down in front of the glass man, planting his foot on the man's right leg and the tip of his sword against his chest, and Taela cast the spell. The man's eyes shot wide open in a curiously involuntary manner.

"Don't move," Barro cautioned. "Unless you're tired of living. Now, who are you?"

"My name is Jepper," the man smiled slightly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Prince Barro."

"Very amusing." He shifted the sword. "Again, who are you? And no more pretending that you don't know what I mean."

Jepper's eyes raised heavenward. "We're merely a secondary force assigned to pluck the wings off any unit sent in search of your king and queen."

"Then why did you make such an effort to take us alive?"

Jepper shook his head. "Not all of you, Your Highness. You were absent, yes? We wanted your friends as bait so we could sacrifice you like King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair."

Barro's eyes hardened at the implication of his cousin and Mayfair's deaths. "Why? Who ordered all this?"

"A man who would like to have Cypress crippled before he declares war on your miserable nation. Since it's now too late for you to do anything about it, I see no reason not to tell you who is responsible for Cypress soon being brought to its knees." Jepper smiled with pride. "His name is Hindel, son of Deanna and Natasha."


	28. Chapter 28: My Own Eulogy

\- Chapter 28: My Own Eulogy -

"After that," Barro recounted, "...we tied them all up, starting with Jepper. Despite that, he managed to escape before we could bring them all back here. Rimeon swears he only took his eyes off of him for a few seconds. I guess he's an elusive one."

Eli nodded. "Have you questioned the others yet?"

"Yes. They're just grunts, though. They don't seem to know much. They just repeated what Jepper said about being under orders from General Hindel."

They were all gathered together in the royal bedchambers, ostensibly to visit the sick king: Barro, Gyan, and the four remaining members of the Cypress royal family, minus young Dorian.

"They must be lying, to try to trick us into going to war with Iom," Judith put in. "Even if this Hindel has somehow managed to rise to power so quickly, ambassador Edwin has told me that most of the court, including the king and queen, want nothing more to do with their god's lust for conquest. Iom has been allies with Cypress for over a decade. Why would any Iomite want to throw that away in service to a god who is going to be sealed away for years if not centuries to come? Besides, Hindel is the son of two of Cypress's greatest heroes. It just doesn't make sense."

"Unfortunately, I think it does," Gyan said glumly. "Nick told me that some prophet foretold that Deanna and Natasha's eldest son would become a warlord and conquer Cypress in the name of the god Iom. He didn't really believe the prophecy, and I still don't understand how Iom could have arranged all this, but it kind of looks like that's what's happening now, doesn't it?"

"It does, but things aren't always what they look like," Barro said. "Just because a theory was foretold doesn't mean it makes sense. Historically speaking, Iom just lost a war with Cypress a short time ago. Why would he try it again, unless he had some new asset on his side?"

"Maybe he does." Eli folded his hands in thought. "Let's assume this Hindel went from a nobody to leader to Iom's army in just a few weeks, as Jepper said. It wouldn't make sense for him to lie about that part. Wouldn't such a remarkable rise to power indicate that Hindel has something special about him?"

"Not really," Judith said. "His parents have a lot of clout with the Iom royal family."

"Still..." Eli was hesitating now. He wanted to be decisive, to speak like a true king, but he was afraid of making the wrong decision while his parents' lives were on the line. "...isn't it possible that..."

"Yeah... There is one possibility, now that I think of it," Gyan filled in. "A friend of ours from Emild, Lady May, was possessed by Iom for a while. She was cured a while before Hindel was born, if I remember right... I think Deanna and Natasha only had their daughter when they cured May. But they were spending a lot of time with May then. What if she did something to Hindel before he was born? Gave him some of her power, or something?"

"That's still speculation," Barro sighed. "We can't jump to war with Iom every time someone points a finger in their direction."

"But what's the alternative?" Eli said. "The only suggestion you've had, Barro, is that my parents were abducted by strangers from some distant country we've never encountered before. Now _that_ is speculation." He realized he was sniping at Barro, but he couldn't help it.

"It's speculation that doesn't contradict what we already know. Guardiana's existence was equally speculative just a few decades ago."

"Very well. We're getting nowhere here. There's a simple way to settle this: You, Gyan, and your friends must accompany Judith on her diplomatic visit to Iom. If they make a grab for her the way they have for you and my parents, then you'll freely admit that Iom is behind all this, won't you?"

"Offering Judith as bait, Eli?" Agnes said, eyebrow raised. "Some brother."

"I was already going to Iom, Agnes," Judith pointed out. "Besides, we'll never defeat whoever it is that's attacking Cypress if we don't take a few calculated risks."

"We'll also never defeat them if we keep _him_ in charge." She jerked her head at Eli.

"Well, he _is_ in charge," Barro said pointedly. "And I agree with his plan. I don't think we should assume Iom is really behind this, but I certainly don't think we should send Judith to Iom unescorted under these circumstances, either. And you're having the ports checked, right?"

"That's already taken care of." He didn't like Barro's tone – as if _he_ was the one giving those orders. Agnes was grating on him, too. He'd like to have said her barbs were all in play, but he knew better. "And you have no problem with leading Judith's escort?"

"Of course not. We already have our excuse laid out, remember? Going along on a diplomatic mission makes a perfectly good little adventure for five young people."

"So why is it that Judith is going to Iom in father's stead, and not the man who's supposed to be taking father's place?" Agnes questioned. "Oh, right. Because Eli doesn't believe in putting his own neck on the line."

"Very well, Agnes, that's enough," Eli snapped. "We do the enemy's work for them if we argue among ourselves. We've all got our tasks to do, so let's get started on them."

As the clandestine meeting broke up, however, Eli was not headed off to start on any task. Right now, he wanted to speak to Alisa more than anything. His duties as acting king could wait an hour.

* * *

He found the queen in her room, alone, seated in a chair and staring in the direction of a blank spot on the wall. She was half-slumped, her face projecting weary resignation.

"What is it, Ruce?"

He bowed his head to her. "I just wanted to tell you that you did the right thing." Her one visible eyebrow raised in idle query. "Rescinding your earlier announcement and naming Lady Ellen your heir, I mean."

Her eye turned away to stare out the window. "After over a week of public protest, I was beginning to feel I didn't have a choice. I never thought my people held such prejudice against dwarves."

"You've missed the point, Your Majesty. Didn't you notice that some of the protesters were dwarves themselves? The people just want to see your bloodline continue." She said nothing to that. "Did Lady Ellen take it with good grace when you congratulated her? I know she can be a sore winner."

"Who said I congratulated her?"

Ruce's mouth twitched. "You should. It's a big deal for her."

"I don't see being born with a diluted strain of royal blood to be an accomplishment. I take pride in my deeds as queen, not my inheriting the role. And Ellen's behavior in this matter is certainly not deserving of congratulations."

He shrugged. "You still should congratulate her, if only for the sake of good manners, and staying on good terms with your family." Anri said nothing. "You know, Your Majesty, the inexperienced are often willing to learn even from people who have stood in their way in the past. This is a good time for you to present yourself as a mentor to Lady Ellen. Instead of choosing a great ruler to be your heir, you can teach your heir to be a great ruler."

Ruce finished this little speech with an encouraging smile. The queen continued to stare blankly out the window. "Your Majesty, are you alright?"

A soft, weary breath escaped her mouth. "It's too late, Ruce. I wanted to finish my reign with putting Guardiana in capable hands, but my end is near. My dizzy spells have been getting worse, and I've been feeling tired all day, not just in the morning. I want to keep on fighting, but it's no use. I will die soon. Maybe even today."

There was a moment of silence.

"I'll get the healer, Your Majesty," Ruce said, and left the room.

Alone again, Anri smiled to herself. There had been a subtle hint of panic in Ruce's parting words. For all his calm, sensible practicality, Ruce couldn't stand the thought of her dying while he was still alive. What could be a more sincere tribute to her reign as queen? She hadn't completely failed in her rule of Guardiana after all.

Really, she had to acknowledge now, she had been well-loved throughout her reign. As distant as she had been in her final years, Anri suspected that she would be remembered not just as the ice queen, but as a woman who had given all she had for her people. She would have liked to have been remembered as a woman of warmth and compassion as well, but it was enough to be satisfied with and more than she deserved.

She felt a fool. Right up to the end, a part of her had clung to the hope that any day, he would return, come striding through her door, sweep her up in his arms, and kiss her the same way he had all those years ago. All this time she had felt that being Anri meant freedom and being "Your Majesty" meant giving everything she had to people who would give nothing in return, but now she truly realized that it was the other way around. She should have devoted herself more fully to her people. She should have married and conceived an heir, not to turn her back on him – she could never do that – but to do her duty to a people who loved her.

Still, all in all, it had been a good life. She was not ashamed of herself.

Dark spots did a slow dance in front of her eyes, and she let her eyelids droop. Perhaps, if there was an afterlife, she would soon be in her beloved's arms once more.

When the healer knocked at the door, giving him permission to enter felt like such a tiresome, pointless chore. She did it because she didn't want to end her life by disappointing people.

The healer examined her briefly and then handed her a cup of brewed herbs, telling her to drink. She obediently took the cup, but she was confident it would make no difference. Death was coming for her, and she was not afraid.

She didn't even bear a grudge against Ellen. She wished that she could have put Guardiana in the hands of someone better, but Ellen had won and Anri had lost. She could face that.

As she raised the cup to her lips, she pondered how Queen Narsha, King Nicholas, King Kay, and King Amelo would feel when they heard of her demise. They had all been worthy, friendly allies.

"Your Majesty, no! Don't drink that!"

Anri turned to the sound of the familiar voice, the cup lowering for the moment. Lady May came running into the room, and the healer seized Anri by her throat and squeezed. Unable to get air, her hands instinctively tried to pry the hand from her throat, while the healer's other hand brought a vial of red liquid to her gaping mouth.

"Spark!" May cried, reaching out a hand to direct the spell which staggered the healer, even as she herself was sent sprawling to the floor by a dagger thrown into her leg.

Anri did not waste time thinking of May's predicament. She broke away from the healer and cast a Freeze spell in the direction the dagger had been thrown from. She didn't wait to see if her spell had hit home, but snatched up her staff and dove to a crouch next to her bed. Adrenaline was pounding through her veins, dispelling the morbid tiredness and almost making up for the weakness of old age.

Even so, the sight before her sorely wounded her confidence. No less than a half dozen enemies were closing in on her, armed with axes, daggers, and swords. May was unable to stand, thanks to the dagger in her leg, but still propped herself up on one arm to try casting another spell in Anri's defense. Someone kicked her in the head, knocking her utterly senseless. There had been more than enough ruckus to raise the attention of nearby guards, but none had come yet, which meant that for whatever reason, none would come.

Anri was alone.

Despite the expansive size of the royal bedroom, her attackers were clustered together enough that a level 3 Freeze spell would hit them hard. Without yielding the limited cover of her bed, she cast one, hitting four of them.

But though hurt by her magic, Anri's attackers were not unprepared for it. They washed over her, the one in the lead swinging his axe through her robes and flesh. A parry with her staff kept it from being lethal, but her strength could not overcome that of her young assailant.

Spells would do her no good against fresh, unscathed warriors with no one to shield her; Max had taught her that. What was needed here was force and evasiveness. She slammed her staff against the axe-wielder's head. As he staggered, getting in the way of his comrades, she rolled over on top of the bed, her old muscles protesting at the sudden maneuvers. She gestured to cast a Blaze spell, but one of them was too quick for her, snatching the end of the bedsheet and throwing it at her; if she cast the spell now, she'd end up with a flaming sheet falling over her. She took advantage of the obstructed view by slipping over the edge of the bed, then casting a Freeze spell under the bed to strike at their feet, sticking them to the floor.

But most of her attackers were not so slow, and no sooner had she cast the spell than a hand gripped her throat, another her arm. She was jerked to her feet and held in a grip she couldn't break, while a dark-haired woman with blue eyes and a long sword stepped forward to end her life.

Suddenly Anri saw an object flying towards her. Her brain registered with bewildered astonishment that the object was her dresser a split second before it collided with the sword-wielding woman. In some bizarre miracle, the impact knocked her forwards but stopped just short of slamming into Anri.

As the woman slumped, unconscious, and the man gaped in momentary astonishment, Anri slipped out of his grip and hit him with a Spark spell. Even as she focused on the remaining three attackers, something was insistently tapping on the shoulder of her consciousness: a sort of grinding purr that was otherworldly yet somehow familiar.

There was no sense in further conserving magical energy. If she didn't stop them now, her luck would run out and she would be dead. This was her last chance. "Spark!" she cried, pouring virtually everything she had left into the level 3 spell.

Searing bolts of electricity lit up the dark room in blinding flashes, striking her enemies like unleashed snakes.

They all fell... all but one. He lurched forward, staggered by the spell, but willing and determined to put an end to the queen of Guardiana.

Then a figure stepped out of the shadows and struck the would-be assassin, knocking him senseless to the floor.

The figure turned to face Anri, making that so-familiar grinding purr with the movement. "You may rest easy now, Queen Anri. All your enemies have been neutralized."

At the sound of that voice, Anri's heart almost stopped. "Oh dear gods," she breathed. "Adam?"


	29. Chapter 29: The Forces of Light Gather

\- Chapter 29: The Forces of Light Gather -

"Hey, wake up."

Joshua felt a hand lightly pushing him. With a groan, he sat up, stretched his arms, and yawned. Then he turned to face the one who had roused him. It was Gary. "What's up?"

"Breakfast. Come on, you always sleep this late?"

He shook his head, yawned again, and started getting dressed. His parents had kept him on a fairly tight schedule of getting up at dawn, but last night was the first time since his family was taken away that he'd been able to get a good night's sleep. It wasn't easy to let it go.

Once dressed, he hurried into the common dining room. There five other boys, plus the boss, were gathered around the table. The boss was serving up some sort of curdy soup for breakfast. Even after getting a good dinner the night before, Josh had enough of an appetite to wolf it down pretty quickly. It tasted okay, though it depressingly paled against the breakfasts his parents made for him: warm doughy cakes with fruit, eggs and sausage, sometimes even fresh fish with rice. He'd give anything to have Mom or Dad serving him breakfast right now.

He rapped himself on the head. _Gotta stop thinking about it. Right now I've got to think about how to get to Addelford._

Before he could proceed along that train of thought, he felt the boss's heavy hand on his shoulder. "So, Joshua, have you given any more thought to staying here? We could use another pair of hands right now."

Josh swallowed. "Yeah. I... I'd like to stay here, but I can't. My brother's in trouble, and I have to warn him."

"If that's all it is, I'd be happy to have a message delivered to him."

That was an idea that hadn't occurred to Josh. Not without reason, though; it felt wrong as soon as he heard it. "I gotta see him myself. A message just isn't enough. I can't trust that it'll actually _get_ to him."

"I see." The boss squeezed his shoulder, which made Josh feel uncomfortable. "Well, it's less than a day's journey to Addelford, so why not at least let it wait until midday? You can get in one last outing with the boys before you go."

"Yeah... sure!" He said it without thinking, the idea was so tempting.

"And once you've warned your brother, you'll at least consider coming back here to stay, won't you?"

"Definitely." Coming back here for good was something he was less sure about, but it wouldn't hurt to give it more thought.

Especially not if, as he feared, it was already too late to save his family.

* * *

"Adam!" Anri said, louder this time. She leapt forward and threw her arms around the metallic solider. Her embrace was met with the warmth and unyielding hardness of a machine in operation. "Dear gods, Adam, it _is_ you!"

"That is correct, Your Majesty, though I do not see the reason for your excitement."

"Then you did survive the sinking of the Castle of the Ancients!"

Anri felt giddy, bursting forth with an excitement and passion she hadn't felt in many years. It was as if an iron mask she'd been forced to wear for most of her life had at last been unlocked and removed, leaving her free to finally be herself again. Her heart overflowed with joy and laughter.

"Then, Max... did he also..." She was afraid to say it, but Adam would not fill in the blanks for her. "...also escape the castle... alive?"

"Yes, he did, Your Majesty. We washed ashore in a distant land called Parmecia together."

"Praise the gods!" She hugged Adam even tighter. "You don't know how sad we all were, when we thought he had... Oh, we've just got to gather everyone back together so we can tell them the good news! So where is he now? Is he with you?"

"No, Your Majesty. He was killed by an insane mercenary six years ago."

It felt as if an icy dagger had just been driven into Anri's heart. She released Adam and took a step back.

"I see," she said. The iron mask locked back into place, and Her Majesty reassumed control. Steel and unmelting ice blocked off all emotion. Cold metal duty and royalty again became the only permitted sentiments. Deep inside, Anri railed in vain against the walls of her prison, her last chance of escape taken away. "Why did he never return to Guardiana in all the years that we thought he was dead and he actually was not?"

"For a long time, we lacked the means to get passage on a boat that could make the voyage. Parmecians are as ignorant of the location of Guardiana as Guardianans are of the location of Parmecia, so the chances of our reaching you would have been somewhere between 1% and 62%."

She nodded. "I should have thought of that. So why have you returned after all these years?"

"That explanation will take 3 to 7 minutes, and I think you might more urgently want to tend to -"

"Oh, no!" Queen Anri suddenly clasped a hand to her heart. "May!"

"Assuming May is the name of the catperson lying there, that is exactly the matter I expected you to be more immediately concerned about."

"I forgot all about her!" She bent down before the fallen lady and examined her. The blow to her head looked bad, but at least she was still breathing. The dagger was lodged deep in her leg; Anri didn't dare try to remove it. "We need to get her a healer, fast. One of us should stay and watch over May and the assassins, but... I can't risk going out there unguarded now, and most residents of the castle would mistake you for a demonic intruder if they saw you. We'll have to risk leaving them alone for a couple minutes."

"That is the course of action most conducive to fulfilling my secondary directive as well. However, by my calculations May being killed would make achieving that directive much more difficult. I shall carry her with us."

Adam's response caught Anri off-guard. She'd gotten so used to her words being received as commands, she had momentarily forgotten that Adam took orders from no one but Max. But she waited patiently as the robot gently took May up in its arms.

"Follow me," she said, and strode out into the hall. Her dizziness and weakness had yet to return, but she didn't trust that to last. They needed to move quickly.

The castle had two priests in residence other than the one who'd just tried to kill her. One of them, Lowe, was getting too old to deal with emergency cases like these. The other was a bit far from their present location. The castle monk, Sig, would be preferable.

They came to his room and knocked.

When he opened the door, Sig's eyes went wide at the sight of Adam. "What in the name of everything holy -"

"This is Adam," Anri said. "He's... an old friend. Lady May has been hurt. I need you to tend to her."

"No problem, Your Majesty." He stepped aside and jerked a thumb at the two patient beds. "Lay her down there, er, Adam."

Adam obeyed, and Sig knelt down and grasped the dagger in May's leg. He pulled it out in one quick, clean motion, but May only gave a mild groan in response. He staunched the resulting waterfall of blood with a bandage, then began casting level 1 Heal spells. Within a minute he finished and stood up.

"Can we wake her?" the queen asked.

"Unless you have urgent need, I don't recommend it. Let her rest for a while."

She nodded, and sat down in a nearby chair. "Well then, Adam, let's hear why you've returned to Rune after all these years. Oh, and Sig, fetch Ruce and Ken here. Have them bring their weapons, just in case."

Sig looked at her with interest. "What's going on?"

"I was attacked by intruders. The three of us dealt with them, but there may be more lurking about. Please, hurry."

Sig didn't waste time with further questions. Once he was gone, Adam said, "Now answering Your Majesty's query: After Master Max's death, Master Ian decided to settle down."

"Master Ian?" Anri said, intrigued. Adam had only ever given the title of "master" to Max and Kane.

"Master Ian's identity is not pertinent to this explanation. However, since you show curiosity, he is Master Kane's son and my designated commander in Master Max's absence. Resuming explanation: With Master Max dead and Master Ian no longer providing me with secondary directives, my prime directive indicated that I must go in search of secondary directives on my own. I did so. However, in Parmecia I failed to find anything more than brief distractions."

Not knowing what that meant, Anri prodded, "Such as?"

"A young man was trapped under a rockslide. I moved the rocks so that he could get out. Some children were being menaced by a wild dog. I neutralized the creature. Trivial matters like that. Eventually I processed that the quickest method of finding a new secondary directive would be to travel to Guardiana and consult you."

"But you said the chances of you reaching Guardiana safely were not good."

"Correction: I spoke of the chances of Max and I reaching Guardiana. Max suffered from human impediments such as sickness and an inability to breathe underwater which would make a prolonged sea voyage hazardous for him. Moreover, Parmecian navigational techniques had considerably improved in the past 40 years. I secured passage on a voyage of exploration headed west."

"I see. So where are the other members of this expedition?"

"In the country where we landed, a place called Kerinam. They wanted to explore the country before continuing on their voyage, and since we soon learned that Kerinamese know Guardiana's location very well, I had no need to remain with the expedition. I instead boarded a Kerinamese ship bound for Guardiana."

"How odd," the queen said, leaning back thoughtfully in her chair. "We haven't had any contact with anyone from Kerinam."

"That is not odd. They have hid their existence from Your Majesty because they mean ill towards you. Most of the people who attacked Your Majesty in your room are Kerinamese."

"You mean..." She brought the tips of her fingers to her mouth. "...it wasn't Lady Ellen? The whole thing was just a coincidence?"

"I have no data on what you are talking about."

Anri's fingers clenched tight over the arms of her chair. "Wait, what am I saying? Of course it was Ellen. The Kerinamese would have needed inside help to invade my personal chambers and ensure that no guards might overhear my cries, and Ellen is the one person with the motive to provide that help. She pressured me into naming her my heir, then tried to kill me to ensure I wouldn't change my mind about my heir a second time."

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Your Majesty." Recognizing Ruce's voice, she turned to see him with Ken and Sig in the doorway. Despite his logical tone, he had a look of utter relief on his face at seeing her. "You yourself said that Lady Ellen has been bringing the members of the court to her side with promises of honors and promotions once she is crowned. That means all of them have just as much motive to have you killed as she does."

"I don't believe that," she said, shaking. "I refuse to believe that other members of my court are that corrupt."

Ruce raised an eyebrow. "But you'll assume it of Lady Ellen, your own cousin? Your Majesty, I think you're letting your frustration with Lady Ellen cloud your judgment. Besides, even in the unlikely event Lady Ellen is guilty, you have nothing to tie her to the crime. You can't just accuse your own heir of attempted regicide without any evidence. The people would think you'd gone mad."

_He's right,_ she realized. _Damn it all, he's right. But we have to __convict__ whoever __i__s responsible, or they'll try to kill me again._ She turned her gaze to Lady May. "She knows something," she said. "She warned me about the healer before he made any threatening move. We'll question her and find out who is behind this."

Ruce nodded. "I knew she was hiding something. Knew it the day she came to this castle."

"Whoever it is that is behind this, Your Majesty," Ken cut in, "...I swear on my honor as a knight that I will not rest until they are brought to justice and Your Majesty's safety is assured. I will -" He did a double take. "I will... What in the world is that thing? It looks like that creature that showed Max how to make the Chaos Breaker."

Adam remained immobile. "It is good to see you again, Sir Ken."

Ken aimed his lance at Adam. "Was he threatening you, Your Majesty?"

"He's the one who saved me from my attackers," Anri answered. "Put your lance down, Ken."

Ken did not obey. "You mean he just happened to turn up, after having been gone for 40 years, at the very moment that your life was in danger?"

"He has already explained to me why his appearance coincided with that of the Kerinamese. Lance down, Ken."

He did as she said.

"Sometimes I'm ashamed of you, Ken," Anri went on, ignoring the dark spots once more waving in front of her vision. "Adam is an old friend, and you would..." The world started to rock and lurch. She felt nauseous. "You would..."

She tipped forward out of her chair.

"Your Majesty!" she heard Ken exclaim before her forehead struck the floor. Then she knew nothing.

* * *

"I don't know," Josh said, starring down at the cobblestones. "I'm good with my hands, not with being charming."

"You don't have to be charming," Jamie said. "Just be distracting."

"Look, can't I just stick with doing the actual snatching? You guys said I'm a natural at it."

"You've gotta learn both parts," Gary contended. "We all do, just in case. And right now's a perfect time, because you already got that big haul yesterday, so it's no big deal if you mess up your first try or three."

Josh decided not to remind them that he was leaving today and most likely wouldn't be coming back. He didn't want to think about that himself. So he said nothing, having no other argument.

"Just pick whichever one you think you'll have the easiest time with," Jamie said, waving his hand in the direction of the people on the street. "We'll follow your lead."

Josh looked over his choices. It struck him that for the first time he was going to decide who was to be robbed of their money. The idea failed to do more than lightly pluck the strings of his conscience, however, and he quickly settled on a plump woman in a dress nice enough to suggest some wealth.

She was headed in their direction. Josh swallowed and stepped forward. He still hadn't decided what to say. Not that he was worried that he wouldn't be able to come up with something. He was more worried that she would recognize him from the wanted posters. Gary had pointed out that that was bound to happen at some point no matter what he did, and that he and Jamie knew enough hidden routes through the city that they could elude any pursuit. He believed all that without the least doubt, but still, the idea made him antsy.

She was passing near him now. "E-excuse me, lady..." _Ugh, way too cutesy. At least it came out natural._ "Please, I need help!"

She turned to looked at him now. "Why, what's the matter?"

_Now what? Maybe a little bit of truth? It might make it more convincing._ "I need to find my older brother! He lives in Addelford, but I just don't know how to get there."

"Now, now, calm down..." Gary was making his move, casually strutting up behind her. "Where are your parents?"

"I... I... I don't have parents anymore! One of my other brothers went crazy and took them away to be sacrificed to Iom!" He hadn't meant to say that; it just came out. _And damn, does it ever sound made up._ "He killed them, and if I don't find Dusty soon, he's going to kill me too! Just like he killed Dawn and Jacey and Amber and Amy and Malcolm!"

To his surprise, Josh found that he was sobbing, tears coming to his eyes. He'd thought he was telling only half-truths, but as he said the words out loud, he realized... _They're really gone. There's no way I can get to Dusty fast enough for us to do anything to save Mom and Dad. If they aren't already dead, they will be soon. Mom and Dad are gone._

The woman was putting a hand on his shoulder. "You poor thing... Slow down, now. Who's Dusty?"

Gary had his hand at the woman's belt. With one slick move, he removed her coin purse.

"Thief!"

Josh, Gary, and the woman all started at this shout and looked around in alarm. This led to the woman noticing her coin purse in Gary's hand. Gary made to flee, but a hand clamped down on his arm with a firm grip.

Josh recognized the hand's owner. "Dusty!" he cried.

"Utterly despicable," his brother said to Gary, ignoring Josh. "You shamelessly take an innocent woman's money from her to satisfy your own greed?" He yanked the purse from Gary's hand and handed it to the woman, who took it and then promptly started backing away. "Right when she's in the middle of offering help to some poor child who's been separated from his family, to boot? Your kind belongs in a prison, though I suspect the judge will let you off with a day in the stocks."

Josh was torn between two overpowering emotions: joy at finding his older brother alive, and relief that he apparently had failed to realize that he was a participant in the theft. However, both now had to take second priority against his friend's predicament.

"Dusty, wait!" He grabbed his brother by the shoulder. "You don't really have to turn him in, do you?"

"Very funny, Josh. Of course I have to turn him in. He's a thief."

"But he's just a kid, like us! Well, like me, anyway. He probably only did it because he needs food and shelter!"

"The reasons don't matter. Thieving is inexcusable." Dusty's face was as hard and resolute as it was whenever he recriminated Hindel for worshiping Iom.

"Come on, Dusty, we just found each other after being apart for nearly a month! Hindel brought men to have Mom and Dad and everyone killed... I was afraid you might be _dead_!"

Dusty's expression did not waver. "He sent men to have me killed too, but they underestimated me. I eluded them and was headed back to the homestead to see if you all were alright."

"That's great! But you _have_ seen those wanted posters of me around, right?" he said, lowering his voice to a modest whisper. "While you're wasting time with this thief, someone might spot me and recognize me."

"So go hide while I bring this thief to the authorities. I'll meet you back here after."

_Man, is he ever stubborn!_ "No! I'm not going to be separated from you now, when we just got back together after all that's happened!" Without any effort, he found that he was starting to sob again. "If something were to go wrong... If someone found me while you were away, or..."

"Oh, all right," Dusty sighed in abject defeat, and let go of Gary. Gary accordingly scampered off, though not without casting a grateful look back at Josh. "Come on, I know a place where we can talk."

Dusty strode into an alley, and Josh had to scamper to keep up with his brother's longer legs. But all he could think as he followed him was, _He's alive! Dusty's alive! Even after Hindel and all his soldiers tried to get him, he's alive! And maybe, just maybe, we have a chance at saving Mom and Dad and the others too._

After another couple turns, Dusty came to a church, opened the door, and went in. The place seemed to be empty aside from the two of them, though at this hour there was presumably a priest somewhere about.

Dusty closed the door behind them. "Now, what happened back home? Where are -"

Josh fiercely hugged him around the chest. "You're alive," he sobbed. "I'm so glad... you're alive."

Dusty firmly hugged him back. "I'm glad you're alive too, Josh. Now," he said, pushing his brother back, "...I'm guessing from your reaction to seeing me, plus the fact that you're here by yourself at all, means Hindel's men got our parents. Am I right?"

Joshua was a little taken aback for a second. Dusty was the least emotional person in their family, but that quick end to their hug was oddly cold, even for him. "...They got all of them. Mom and Dad, Dawn, Jacey, Amber, Amy, and Malcolm. It's just you and me left, and maybe Carla."

"Did they kill them?"

"No, they just took them away. I think Hindel's planning to sacrifice them to Iom."

Dusty nodded. "I'm sure he is. And since he didn't kill them right away, he's almost certainly taking them to the shrine in the capital."

"Then we gotta get there fast!" Josh said, reaching for the door.

But Dusty clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Wait."

"Wait?! Hindel's going to -"

"First, we must give thanks to the Light for bringing us together."

Joshua's jaw dropped. "_What_ are you talking about?"

Dusty turned towards the altar, pulling Josh along with him. "Why did you think I chose to bring us here? My running into you, with neither of us having any idea that the other would even be in this city, is a true miracle. It likely saved your life, and gives us a much bigger head start on saving our family, so it can only have been brought about by the Light. We must spend a few minutes giving thanks for this wonderful gift."

Dusty pushed Josh into a kneeling position in front of the altar, then knelt down himself. He let go of Josh in order to clasp his hands together and close his eyes in solemn prayer, but Josh still didn't feel comfortable with getting up off his knees. Sighing to himself, he clasped his own hands together.

_See, _this_ is exactly why I like Hindel better than Dusty._ Dusty wasn't a religious nut like Hindel; so far as Josh could tell, he rarely gave a thought to prayer or worship. But every now and then, something would trigger one of these pious shows of devotion. And they were so much worse than Hindel's daily prayers and frequent sacrifices. The difference being, Hindel's god was completely phony, so it was easy enough for Josh to laugh at his devotions and incorporate them into ventriloquism routines and such. The Light was real, and even if Josh felt that actively worshiping it was a waste of time, whenever Dusty went down on his knees it made him feel like a total jerk for even thinking about not joining in. Not spending time in gestures of devotion to a being that could care less about such frippery was one thing; scoffing at an invitation to do so was another. His conscience just wouldn't let him shun a few minutes of prayer while his brother was being so reverent.

_I hate praying. What am I supposed to say, anyway? "Gee, thanks for bringing me and Dusty back together"? That's nonsense. I was going from home to Addelford, Dusty was going from Addelford to home, and this is one of the main cities along the way; of _course_ we were going to both wind up here. There's a little bit of coincidence in __us coming to the same street__, but not enough to make it divine intervention._

_ Heck, what good is there in praying anything? The Light isn't like a person; it's just the source of everything good. But whatever. I love you, the Light. You're great, you're awesome, I don't know what I'd be without you, and thanks for all the great and awesome things you do. Now can I leave so that I can maybe reach the capital in time to save my family?_

_ No, of course not, because Dusty over there has to spend an hour sitting on his knees. What the heck is he even thinking about all this time, anyway? Just thank the Light for the "miracle" of us being together and let's go! Come on! Come on and -_

Suddenly Dusty made the final bow opened his eyes, and looked at his younger brother. "There. It feels good to give thanks to the Light, doesn't it?"

"Oh, sure."

"You're a good kid, Josh," he said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "Sometimes you go too far with your pranks, but deep down you're a good kid. You'd never do anything fundamentally wrong."

Dusty was looking him in the eye with dread seriousness. It made Josh feel a bit funny. Like the quick end to their hug earlier, it seemed "off" from Dusty's usual manner. "...Thanks."

Dusty looked at him a moment more, then said, "Okay, let's get moving."

* * *

Eli fleetingly wondered if he were doing the right thing, but he put that thought aside. There was, after all, no way of knowing if he were doing the right thing without a lot more information. Knowing what they knew, the course he had decided on was the one most likely to meet with success.

To further assure himself, he played back in his head his last conversation with Alisa.

_"Agnes had a point, though," he'd confided to her. "Even under escort, it's very dangerous for Judith to go to Iom right now."_

_ "But you told me before that this visit to Iom is too important to just back out of," she objected. "And didn't Barro say that sending anyone other than a member of the royal family would be an insult?"_

_ "I think Barro just said that to get me out of the country, away from ruling Cypress. Either way, I say it's nonsense. Richard would be a perfectly acceptable substitute. Even Varmo would be fine."_

_ "But Richard and Varmo aren't expendable, are they? I know Judith is your sister, but is it really any more acceptable for one of them to die than her?"_

_ "It's not that. Judith is willing to risk her life for Cypress, so it's not for me to say that someone else should risk their life in her place. I just..." He sighed. "I feel that there must be a better solution, something that father would think of in an instant if he were here."_

_ She put her hand on his. "It's easy to say that and blame yourself, but what better solution could there be? If Iom is our enemy, it's not as if anyone other than Judith would be better equipped to deal with them."_

"Better equipped," Eli repeated aloud, softly. It was marvelous that Alisa had chosen those very words. She was a more brilliant woman than she realized.

He came to the room and knocked on the door. There was the sound of footsteps, and a moment later, Barro opened it. "Eli?"

"Change of plans, my dear cousin," he said, putting on the confident smile he'd often seen his father wear. "We're going back to your original idea. Judith is staying here to rule in my stead, and I'm going with you to Iom."


	30. Chapter 30: May's Story

\- Chapter 30: May's Story -

Anri felt old. Old and sick. Her insides felt as though she'd just vomited up five meals' worth. Her bones ached. Her joints were stiff. Her eyelids felt indescribably heavy.

Even so, she wanted to know what was going on. With a supreme effort, she made her eyes open.

The first thing she saw was that her insides hadn't lied: a towel had been laid across her lap, and on it was a pile of vomit. Two servants were just now lifting it away to dispose of it. Sig was dabbing at her face with a wet cloth. She was still in his chamber, lying on one of the two patient beds. May was still in the other one, but was now sitting up, watching Anri and wringing her hands. Her pose relaxed slightly when she noticed her waking up. Adam remained stoically at her side, but Ken and Ruce were nowhere to be seen.

"Your Majesty," May said. "Why did you not tell them that you'd been poisoned?"

"Poisoned?" Anri echoed, looking roughly in May's direction. She still felt a bit disoriented.

"Didn't you realize?"

Anri's gaze began to focus. "I think you had better tell me what you know, Lady May."

May bowed her head. "Yes, Your Majesty. I fear that once you've heard this you will make me leave your court, but the time has come for the whole truth.

"I told you before that there are subversive forces working in Emild. What I did not tell you is that while I was still under Iom's control, Iom told me that he anticipated there would be similar subversive forces at work in Guardiana. At that time, a nation called Kerinam was sending out expeditionary forces to this continent and that of Emild and Cypress, with an eye to... converting them to their ideals, by force if necessary. With most of the nations, an open effort to conversion would make sense. But with Guardiana, a nation with no official heir to the throne to date, it seemed likely that Kerinam would try to take advantage and set up a puppet monarch."

"And Iom ordered you to stop this?" Anri guessed.

"No, Your Majesty. At the time, he had more immediate plans which he hoped would render Kerinam's subversive tactics in Guardiana meaningless. Those plans were only foiled by my liberation from his will." She sat down and leaned against the staff she kept clutched in both hands. "I came to your court for the very reasons I told you when I arrived. I could no longer see any way of saving Emild from the traitors within, and knowing that a similar fate was likely in store for Guardiana, I thought I could at least protect you."

"You knew, then, that there was a threat to my life?"

May shook her head. "I suspected that there would be. If Kerinam had allies or agents within your court, the most logical thing for them to do would be to get their choice for the throne named as heir, then have you killed so as to put their puppet ruler into play as quickly as possible. That's the real reason I recommended either Ruce or Lord Andrew as your heir; they're among the few Guardianans who I can be certain would never serve as a puppet ruler. That's also why I've been keeping an eye out for an assassination plot, especially after you named Lady Ellen as your heir. Ellen is corruptible enough that even if she doesn't agree with Kerinamese ideals, she would gladly cut a deal with them if it would mean becoming queen."

"Indeed." The queen nodded.

"For a while, I just couldn't figure it out," May went on, wringing her hands together. "I've spent many waking hours watching over you to prevent any attempt on your life. Security in your court is not as tight as in Cypress and Emild. Here you seem to rely, to some extent at least, on the goodwill and honesty of your countrymen, and an assassin would have any number of decent shots at you. Yet no one made a move. It was when you told me about your weariness and dizzy spells that I got my first clue, though it didn't occur to me until just hours ago. Your symptoms have been getting worse, and it struck me how horribly convenient it would be for the Kerinamese if Your Majesty were to succumb to the weaknesses of old age right now. My service under Iom has taught me to have a much more suspicious mind than I used to have, and so I then realized that your illness could instead be the result of a slow poisoning."

Anri was now sitting up in bed. "So, why poison? Why not an assassin's dagger?"

"That part I should have realized sooner. A violent regicide in the wake of the royal heir being named would immediately raise suspicions against Kerinam's puppet ruler. They needed to kill Your Majesty in such a way that your death would seem the result of natural causes. Had I made this simple deduction from the beginning, I would have stopped this before Your Majesty became so gravely ill." Her head hung in shame. "Once I guessed it was poison, it was just a matter of figuring out who and how. However the poisoning started, it made the most sense for them to continue it through your medicine. I went snooping in the rooms of the resident healers, and took samples of anything I didn't recognize. I took them to an apothecary in town, and he identified one as poison. I raced back to the castle to warn you, only to find the culprit already with you. The rest you know."

The queen considered for a few moments in silence. "One thing doesn't make sense to me. I started feeling unwell before I named Ellen my heir, and even before I named Ruce my heir. Why would they start poisoning me then?"

"Heck, that's easy," Sig volunteered. "They needed to get a head start, not to mention hurry you up with naming your heir by making you feel like you didn't have long to live."

"But what if I hadn't done things according to their plan?"

"Then all they'd need to do is stop administering the poison, and you'd gradually get better. They could always put you back on it once you named Lady Ellen your heir."

"How utterly vile," she shook her head. "So, May... You have no idea whether it was the Kerinamese, Lady Ellen, or someone else who gave the actual order to have me killed?"

"Indeed, none whatsoever. I don't even really know if there are any Kerinamese in Guardiana right now," May admitted. "That was just a suspicion I had because of what I learned from Iom."

"You have, in fact, only Iom's word for it that Kerinam is hostile at all?"

"Iom would never lie to one of his servants, Your Majesty. I am more certain of that than I have been of anything in my entire life."

"Then you do still serve Iom?"

"I serve you, Your Majesty. That does not change what Iom told me."

"Kerinam is hostile to Guardiana, Your Majesty," Adam offered. "I positively identified several of your assailants as Kerinamese from an official expedition. May's story has a 100% consistency with all information I have obtained on Kerinam and its political activities."

Anri paused to consider again. She focused her gaze on May. "So you came to this court, abandoning your home country and your liege in the process, solely on a hunch based on the information Iom gave you?"

"That, and my inability to do anything to help my home country and my liege." May sighed. "There is one more thing I must tell you, Your Majesty, and if you have not already decided to expel me from your court for keeping you in the dark for so long, I suspect this will do it. I have never actually lied to you. My reasons for advising you to not come to Emild's aid are true. But I left something out." She took a breath. "Because of something I did while under Iom's control, General Hindel is completely bound to Iom. He hears Iom's voice, wields Iom's power, and will almost certainly do whatever Iom wishes."

The queen frowned. "So, why...?"

"Because regardless of my feelings towards Iom, he represents the best protection for King Kay and Emild right now. He has been planning for an invasion from Kerinam for decades now, whereas the monarchs in our part of the world cannot even truly comprehend the threat. It is either leave Emild in the hands of Iom and General Hindel, or leave it in the hands of Kerinam."

"You mean to tell me that you think being under the rule of a despot dedicated to human sacrifice for an evil god is better than being under Kerinam rule?"

"In the short run, perhaps not, though Your Majesty must bear in mind that though he serves Iom, Hindel is very different from Woldol or Warderer. But in the long run, Iom is unquestionably the lesser of the two evils."

"Why is that?"

Before May could answer, there was a knock on the door, and once assent was given, Ken stepped in. "Your Majesty! I'm glad to see you've recovered."

"All it took was a few Detox spells to clear most of it out of her system," Sig shrugged. "She'll probably need a few days to recover her strength, though."

"Thank you, Sig. Your Majesty, I was going to interrogate the men who attacked you, but they've already vanished from your room. Have I your permission to question the guards who were supposed to be on duty near you when the attack occurred?"

Queen Anri sighed heavily, and rested her forehead in one hand. "Unfathomable. It is as if my own castle has become a den filled with conspirators against me."

"It may not be as bad as that, Your Majesty," Sig interjected. "Most likely the guards were just manipulated into leaving their posts. We don't have any real reason to think they were in on the attempt to kill you."

"Nonetheless, we need to do something to stop the threat now." She forced herself to stand, though in the process she found that Sig was right about her need to recover her strength. "First, I'm going to change my official heir again. Then, unless one of the guards you question happens to give us some useful information, there's only one way we can find out how to resolve the situation with Kerinam. We're going to consult with General Hindel of Iom."

* * *

Mayfair woke up feeling very uncomfortable. By now used to sleeping in the royal bed, it was rather a shock to wake up to painful soreness in her wrists and ankles, an unpleasant hardness at her back, and a lingering headache.

She opened her eyes, and tried to sit up. Unsuccessfully. She was lying on a stone table of sorts, her wrists manacled to a spot just above her head, and her ankles manacled down below. It was fairly dark, but what seemed to be light from a torch illuminated her situation.

"Another fine mess we've found ourselves in, isn't it?" a voice said. "Though on the bright side, you do look rather fetching in that position."

Mayfair groaned, at the remark rather than at the soreness in her limbs. "I suppose you think I'd look even better with a gag around my mouth to complete the picture?" she returned.

"Absolutely not. Your mouth is your best feature."

"Good spirits, Nick, why must you revert to that horrible 'rogue' act?" She turned her head in the direction of his voice, and saw that he too was bound to a stone slab, though his hands were positioned by his shoulders. She nonetheless fixed him with a glare.

"Sorry," he sighed. "Just trying to relieve my boredom."

"Boredom? Boredom would be infinitely preferable to this."

"What I mean is, nothing's happening. I must have woken up over an hour ago, and no one's come to check on us. It's as if our abductors simply forgot about us."

"That _is_ odd." She shifted a bit in an effort to make herself less uncomfortable. "So, what is your plan for getting us out of here?"

He gave her one of his half-smiles. "No plan. I didn't see this one coming."

"Usually you're two steps ahead of your enemies."

"Yes. But I can't think of anyone at present who would do something so dramatic as abducting the king and queen. Either I've misjudged someone, or there's a new piece on the board."

"Oh no." Her heart sank. "You're serious."

"Unfortunately, I am. But look on the bright side: they haven't killed us. That means it's just a matter of time before Gyan and the others rescue us."

"Maybe," she said, though she had a sinking feeling that Nick was just trying to make her feel better. If their abductors had been good about covering their tracks, they might never be found. "But in the meantime, Eli is going to be acting king. Do you think he's truly ready for that?"

"He'll do well enough. Though the timing could be better for him, I fear."

She furrowed her brow at him. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm sure you've noticed by now that the boy has been hung up on some minor noble, Lady Alisa. Shortly before our abduction, I made arrangements for her to break up with him."

"What...?"

"It wasn't anything complicated. I simply took her aside and persuaded her that she isn't nearly good enough for him. She's a very transparent young lady, so it wasn't hard to deduce that she genuinely cares for Eli, enough so that she'd willingly break up with him if she realized that that's what's best for him. She agreed with me, and it wasn't difficult to make her understand that she shouldn't tell Eli anything about our conversation, either. It worked out very neatly, if only it hadn't had the misfortune to be arranged for just before our abduction."

"Nick," Mayfair said, gritting her teeth. "If only my hands were free, I'd punch you right here and now."

"It's funny," he mused. "I didn't realize that would be your reaction until just after I finished saying it. Sometimes I think I'm not as brilliantly intelligent as I fancy myself to be."

"How could you, Nick? Eli is our son!"

"It's for his own good. You must realize as well as I do that Lady Alisa would be an incompetent queen. She may be pretty enough, and likable enough, but she hasn't the intelligence to understand diplomacy, trade, or any of the other sundry aspects of ruling a nation. On top of that, she lacks courage and self-confidence. Aside from bearing heirs to the throne, she can do nothing to relieve the heavy burden of the throne."

"That is not for us to decide! It is Eli's life, and if he loves Alisa, you have no right to stop him from being with her."

"Romance offers only fleeting happiness." He turned to look at the ceiling. "My marriage to you, on the other hand, still makes me as happy as it did when we were newlywed. Once he finds a worthy queen, Eli will find that same lasting happiness."

"If you think the keys to your happiness are the same as everyone's, then you make a foolish assumption."

"You think he'll be happy with no one but that simple-minded woman at his side after you and I are gone? I thought by now you'd come to understand how heavy the burden of being king is."

"The keys to Eli's happiness are not yours," she reiterated. "You wanted someone to relieve the burden of being king directly, by helping you with that duty. Eli wants someone he loves beside him as he handles that duty by himself."

Their conversation was interrupted by a new voice, a voice strangely bereft of air. "I wouldn't worry about it too much one way or the other. That duty is soon to be stripped from him, along with his life, by my god's chosen servant."

Mayfair craned her head up as best as she could to see the speaker. The voice was somehow familiar, and yet...

The sight she saw made her catch her breath. The speaker was no mortal, but a shuffling form of decayed flesh sheathed in flaking skin, a body that looked about as sturdy as a wasp's nest, and several times as menacing. Even so, after a moment she was able to place who the speaker was.

"High Priest Leifo," Nick said. "Somehow, I never thought I'd meet you again."

Leifo continued to shuffle towards the two of them. "You should have expected it. You saw from what happened to Woldol that Iom likes to keep his most faithful servants in the land of the living, even after they no longer belong there."

"But why now?" Mayfair pointed out. "It's been 20 years since you died."

"It was thought prudent to keep me in hiding until the Cloud of Iom had come to deliver the world into Iom's hands. This way, I wouldn't be taken out of the game before I could lend my god's chosen servant a hand, and along the way..." He reached out a hand for Nick. "...extract some personal revenge."


	31. Chapter 31: The Shining Forces Meet

\- Chapter 31: The Shining Forces Meet -

"I appreciate your remaining here a few extra days after your return from Emild," Queen Gillian said, quaintly playing with the strands of her hair. "This meeting with King Nicholas of Cypress is very important, and Amelo and I much appreciate you being present to offer advice and support."

"I don't doubt that, Your Majesty," Hindel said. They were in the army headquarters, in a small room set aside as the general's office. The sounds of the troops training just outside could be heard. "I also don't doubt that your main reason for wanting me at this meeting is because you suspect I've been antagonizing Cypress and want me there to take the blame."

Gillian blinked. "Why would I suspect that?"

"I said words hinting at that to Amelo while we were in Emild, and he told you."

"Hindel, I -"

He held a hand up. "I'm not remonstrating you. It is right that I take the blame for all of Iom's aggression." He paced over to the opposite corner of the room. "Anyway, your suspicions are half-correct. While a servant of Iom has been active in Cypress, it's doubtful that our visitors know about it yet. However, this meeting is a perfect occasion to let Cypress know where they stand."

Gillian was silent a moment. "Won't you reconsider? I'm sure I can convince King Nicholas to ally with Iom against these invaders."

"This isn't my decision, Your Majesty. It's Iom's. Our god knows, far better than you or I, that an alliance with Cypress just isn't possible on this occasion." He turned to look her in the eye. "You believe me, don't you?"

"I believe you're telling the truth as you know it. But as to whether what you're doing is what's best for my country... that, I don't know." She sighed. "I know you'll tell me to have faith in Iom, but I don't see him as the benevolent being you do, and even you have to admit that his plans have failed before."

"Maybe." He stifled the urge to go into a full lecture. He knew by now that it would be wasted on Gillian. "But how many times has Iom had his plans executed by a servant who is fully devoted to his will?"

"There is that," she admitted.

But Hindel wasn't fooled. Gillian had come to trust him much more, but the task of conquering the known world still frightened her. The only reason he could be sure she wouldn't betray him was that Silas's people frightened her even more.

His Iom-based body frightened her as well. It had reached the point where he rarely changed back completely to his human form. The more he wore Iom's image, the more his old body felt hopelessly weak and fragile. He had come to hate surrendering his invincibility to such pointless weakness, but not half as much as his hated surrendering the closeness with Iom that he experienced whenever in his new body. There was simply no reason to assume his human body, save to pacify people who would fear him just because he looked different.

"Well," Gillian said, stepping to the doorway. "It's about time for the audience. Do you want to brief Amelo and me on anything?"

"No," he said, following her out. "The more genuinely ignorant you are, the more innocent you will appear. Alric! Redgar! Bradford! Come with us. We'll be the king and queen's guards for the audience."

His friends promptly formed up alongside him. He whispered to Alric, "I don't need to tell Redgar and Bradford because they're always keyed up, but be ready for a fight. Just in case this doesn't go according to plan."

Alric nodded. "I hope you and Iom know what you're doing here, lad."

"Of course we do. It's just a question of whether or not the gamble we're taking pays off."

Alric briefly laid a hand on his shoulder. "We're all with you to the end, Hindel."

That part weighed on him the heaviest. Killing Iom's enemies no longer bothered him, but the thought of Iom's faithful followers, even his friends, dying due to his decisions... as much as was possible, he had to prevent that.

* * *

Upon arrival at the Iom palace, the Cypressian party had been given the usual accommodations for the night. After breakfast the next morning, they were escorted to the throne room for their appointed audience. It was a perfectly routine delay, if it could even be called delay at all, but Prince Eli did not take it well. Even after Barro and Gyan had made every reasonable check to ensure their quarters were not trapped, and given out assignments for nighttime watches, Eli kept on pushing for the party to search the palace for his parents. His willingness to assume Iom was responsible for his parents' disappearance was getting on Barro's nerves, and the worst of it was that it wasn't even logic which had put a stop to his reckless plans to flaunt all sense of diplomacy and go fruitlessly snooping about; it was a lack of enthusiasm from the rest of the party. Caleb and Taela were too engaged with not talking to each other to get involved with any team effort, Rimeon was too afraid to try anything that could get him in trouble, and Karis was quick to accept that a centaur would be useless on a stealth mission. Thankfully Eli was at least sensible enough to see that for the prince of Cypress to go sneaking about himself was an unacceptable diplomatic risk, and loyal enough not to send Farrell out alone.

It had been a near thing, and the situation between Caleb and Taela was really starting to worry him. As their escort led them down the halls, he whispered to Eli, "Watch it. If your father's still alive, he doesn't need you starting a diplomatic crisis with Iom." The prince bristled slightly at receiving unsolicited advice, but that didn't mean he wouldn't take it to heart. Or so Barro hoped.

They entered the throne room. The king and queen were seated on their thrones, and four guards stood at the monarchs' four sides: one a human, one a dwarf, one a lizardman, and one a hideous creature with a man's head seemingly stitched onto its body.

"So, Prince Eli," Amelo said, "...you come in your father's stead."

"Yes, King Amelo." The prince looked a little out of his element, but resolute all the same. "My father was unavoidably detained. But there are important matters which our nations must discuss."

"You mean the sharing of navigational charts in order to ensure safer and more efficient trade routes for our two nations."

"There is that." Eli's lips curled into a wry smile. "However, I was thinking more along the lines of your invasion of Emild and the unauthorized presence of Iom troops in Cypress territory."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Even Hindel (Barro had gradually realized that was who the monster/human had to be) seemed too startled by Eli's directness to immediately respond. Then Amelo coughed, and managed to say, "Oh, that."

"'Oh, that'?" Eli echoed.

"Yes. What exactly about that did you wish to discuss?" Amelo said, recovering.

"An explanation for why you have taken these actions would be a good start." Eli was losing his cool now, visibly trembling. Barro readied himself to step in; Eli was doing fine so far, but this could be the build-up to an explosive loss of temper.

Amelo put a hand to his jaw. "The conquest of Emild was ordered by Iom. We can always use more subjects and territory, so I saw no reason not to obey our god's command. Iom is rising to become the most powerful nation in the world again, you see. As for our troops within your borders, General Hindel here can answer your questions about that better than I."

"You mean that monstrosity you have there is your general?" Eli scoffed.

"He is no monstrosity. He is the Cloud of Iom, bringing our god's message to the world. His body is a direct manifestation of mighty Iom's power."

General Hindel observed his king with perceptible intrigue at he was saying, then spoke up. "You seem upset, Prince Eli. Would it calm you to know that I am already having my troops withdraw from Cypress?"

"It _would_," Eli said, "...if I were assured that they were leaving everything they've taken from Cypress behind in Cypress, in the same condition it was in when they found it."

He folded his arms. "What exactly do you think they've taken?"

"Stop playing the fool!" Eli burst out. "We know you've abducted my parents!"

Barro dropped his face into his palm. _Well, it happened. He's lost it._

Hindel considered a moment. "So the king and queen of Cypress are missing. What makes you think my men took them?"

"We captured some of your men, and they told us themselves. They even told us that you're the one who gave the orders to kidnap them!"

There was a brief silence. Hindel's men were all tensed, and looked ready to attack at any moment. Barro knew without looking that his friends were ready for a fight as well.

At last Hindel shrugged. "Well. I'm afraid I misspoke."

"Misspoke?" Eli echoed, this time with twice the seething anger behind the echo.

"Or rather, _you_ misspoke. You said my men abducted the king and queen. That implies, incorrectly, that they did not kill them."

Eli went pale. Karis burst out, "So you _did_ kill them! You filthy -"

"Shut up, Karis," Barro interjected. He needed to reassert calm reason in his group. Time to start calling Hindel's bluffs. "Forgive if I'm a bit skeptical of your claim. Why would you do something so foolish as to kill the rulers of your most powerful ally, especially without consulting your king and queen?"

"The word of my god supersedes that of my king. Now we have two more royal sacrifices to bring us closer to Iom, and Cypress's leadership is crippled, leaving you vulnerable to conquest by our army."

"Not if we stop you here!" Eli drew his sword. "Rimeon, Gyan, Caleb, Karis – deal with the general's men! Taela, provide supporting fire! Farrell, Barro, and I will deal with Hindel!"

Barro drew his sword. _Damn it. Eli's lost his cool, but he's right; that little speech of Hindel's just put all hostilities right out in the open._

Eli's troops rushed to the attack, but Hindel raised his arms, and an azure blue shield appeared. As one, the eight Cypress fighters slammed hard against the mystic barrier and fell to the floor. At a gesture from Hindel, the three other guards leapt forward and leveled their weapons at their prone opponents.

"You really thought the Cloud of Iom would be unprepared for you?" Hindel said. "Or that I would let you hurt my friends? The power of Iom is always there to protect those closest to him."

Eli lifted his head. "We won't lose to the likes of you. We are -"

"Don't," he warned. "I could kill all of you in an instant, and I will as soon as one of you makes a wrong move. Most of you are young and inexperienced enough to think I'm bluffing, but you know better, don't you, Gyan?"

Gyan's eye widened. "You recognize me. Even though the last time we met, you were just a baby."

"No. I can hear Iom's voice, and he told me who you are."

"That's one explanation. But I'm thinking maybe you aren't really Hindel. Maybe you're an incarnation of Iom himself, impersonating Deanna and Natasha's son."

At those words, Hindel strode towards Gyan, seized him by his thick neck, and hoisted him into the air. "Blasphemy!" he roared. Were it not for Gyan's armor, Hindel's fingers would have pierced his neck. "No mortal being can be an incarnation of a god, and Iom impersonates no one! Iom has spoken directly to me, and his voice is pure truth. And though I have yet to behold him with my own eyes, I know that his form is the face of reality."

Gyan struggled valiantly, but even his strength was no match for the Cloud of Iom.

"Despite your interfering in his plans before, Iom does not desire your death. But do not ever blaspheme in that way again," Hindel warned. "Or I -"

Caleb was lying near Hindel's feet. He seized his bo and struck at the backs of Hindel's legs, sweeping him off his feet and onto his back. He then leapt to his feet, crying, "Now, everyone!"

Only Eli, Farrell, and Barro followed this cry. Barro didn't blame the others for staying put; they probably thought the worst that could happen was their being made prisoners of war.

The lizardman kicked Eli in the face, quick and hard enough to cut off the grab he made for his sword. Farrell leapt up behind the lizardman and wrapped him in a bear hug. But his human comrade was quick to come to his aid, striking Farrell on the head with his staff. The Royal Protector was well-built for his age, but inexperienced; the blow made him release his grip on the lizardman, who then spun around and sliced deep into his furry hide.

Barro could not waste time helping Farrell. He needed to finish General Hindel immediately, or they were finished. The Cloud of Iom was on his back after Caleb's strike, so Barro leapt upon him, the point of his sword aimed at his head.

Hindel's hand shot out and grabbed Barro's sword by the blade, while his foot struck a blow to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. A mighty flap of his demonic wings pushed him back onto his feet. Holding Barro's sword in both hands, he snapped the blade in two with one easy motion.

"Now do you believe me when I say how great Iom's power is?" Hindel said to Barro. "I don't want to kill you. But this pointless fighting must -"

Hindel had seemingly forgotten about Caleb, who now slammed his bo into what would have been his stomach, assuming the Iom general had one. This served as only a momentary distraction, but Barro used it to lunge forward and wrap his hands around Hindel's neck.

"You think I don't know what Iom's servants do to their prisoners?!" Barro demanded as he strangled Hindel. "I lived through Woldol's regime! And I'll die before I let you do to my friends what he did to my family!"

Hindel did not try to break away. He did not plea for mercy. Instead, he changed. Physically.

Under Barro's tight grip, he felt soft human skin and fragile tendons harden into spiny chitin, a substance utterly indifferent to his attempt at strangulation. The transformation spread over Hindel's entire head, and as Barro watched in horror, he found the face of Iom staring back at him.

Barro was not a man unprepared for shock, but he had no time to form a new plan. Hindel struck him on the side of his head with his monstrous fist, and he fell to the floor. Before he lost the last vestiges of consciousness, he witnessed Hindel felling Caleb with a level 4 Freeze spell while additional Iom guards came in to take away his friends.

* * *

When Natasha awoke, she found Deanna hovering over her bed, eyes fixed thoughtfully upon her. Mentally pushing aside the soreness in her limbs from the stiff board that was her bed in the dungeon, the ache in her heart at Hindel's betrayal, and her festering worry for their children, she managed a smile just for him. "Good morning, my love," she said.

He gave her his own smile, soft and mild as usual. "...I've been watching and listening for the guards' patterns," he told her. "They haven't really changed since my last visit with Brehen. The mage who casts Dispell on us has the keys. If we grab the guard who brings our food, we can lure the mage over. After we leave them both unconscious, we'll have a good three hours before anyone finds they're missing. By that time -"

"Deanna, no." She put a hand on his arm. "We can't risk it, not while they have our children. If even one thing doesn't go according to your plan, they could kill them."

"They'll probably kill them if we sit here and do nothing." His voice was suddenly very tense. "That's why I've got to get us out of here as soon as possible."

"It's too big a risk. Even if we get the first guard, the mage will most likely just run and get help. Luring him over is a longshot. I know..." She drew in a breath. _By the Light, it hurts so much just to think about it._ "I know our children are in danger. But our best chance is to wait until a better opportunity -"

"I can't just sit here and do nothing!" He jerked his arm away from her and seized the bars of their cell, as if he could break them with the strength of his desperation. "They're going to kill us all! They're going to sacrifice us to Iom! Our own children are going to be forced to become part of that horrible thing! And Hindel is going to be responsible! If I don't stop them, they..."

Natasha stepped behind him and clasped his shoulders. She was planning on saying something, but as soon as she did this he spun around and threw his arms around her as he buried his sobbing face against her breast. "Deanna," she said softly.

"I... I'm helpless," he wept. "All this time I thought you'd made me stronger, but I couldn't save my brother, I couldn't save Lym, and now I can't even protect you and our children."

"No, Deanna." She stroked the back of his head. "I know you feel helpless now, but you're a strong man, and just having you here with me makes me feel braver. I never made you stronger; I just helped you find the strength you had in you all along. That strength saved Iom from Warderer, remember. That strength helped hundreds of people from poverty, and saved dozens from being sacrificed to Iom. And you helped me find my strength, too. When I first met you, I thought all I wanted was to be Prince Nick's little housewife slave. You made me realize that I wanted to be loved... that I could be loved... and finally, that I _am_ loved."

He was still clinging to her like a child. "But if you... die now, than I've... failed you."

"You haven't failed! For twenty years you've been helping me raise a beautiful family, and we _aren't_ going to die now. Think, Deanna. If they were going to sacrifice us to Iom, why would they bring us here? Why not just take us to the nearest shrine and do it there?"

"I don't know... but that doesn't mean they aren't going to kill us."

"Maybe not, but something else does." Her heart grew steady. For a few moments, she'd been feeling the same anxiety and despair that Deanna was giving voice to, but now that she was saying it, she realized that she truly believed it. "Hindel's in charge, and Hindel is our son. Whatever Iom's done to him, Hindel is still our son. Whatever political power he's taken, he's still our son. Whatever Brehen prophesied, Hindel is still our son. He's not going to let them kill us or his brothers and sisters. He's going to do the right thing in the end. We just have to believe in him."

Deanna lifted his head off of her and looked into her eyes. "How can you...?"

"You love Hindel, don't you?"

"...Yes." The tears on his face were now dry. "I love him. He reminds me of myself, but he's more focused, more... faithful."

"He'll be faithful to his brothers and sisters, too. He won't kill them, no matter what Iom tells him."

"You're right." He looked at her with adoration, and she found herself blushing. Deanna's love for her was something she'd long since come to fully accept, and even sometimes took for granted, but his boundless respect for her still embarrassed her at times. "...There's something else. I haven't seen Dust since we visited Dusty in Addleford, but I don't think he would have let himself get caught by Hindel's troops. We can believe in him, too... believe that he'll help us without doing anything that might get our children killed. He's better at stealth than either of us."

Something in his voice told her that he was still worried. She could guess why; they had very little idea of what was going on outside their cell. To reassure him, and herself as well, she reached out and clasped his hand in hers.

The warmth of his hand gave her strength. The two of them were souls made for each other. They'd given the world nine wonderful children. They'd done all they could to ensure Iom would be a better place for their children, and for everyone's children. If the Light had any say at all in the things of this world, it would not let all of that come to a ruinous end.

Footsteps coming down into the dungeon broke in on their solitude. The steps gradually came closer, and Hindel's face appeared at their door. "Mom, Dad... it's time."

"Time?" Natasha echoed. "Hindel, what have you done with your brothers and sisters?"

"They're fine. So long as you don't try to escape, I have no reason to hurt them. There's no threat, except possibly Dusty. Him I may have to kill for Iom, but as for Josh, Carla, Jacinda, Amy, Dawn, Amber, Malcolm... whether they all live or die is up to you."

"Why are you doing this, Hindel?" Deanna put in. "What is it that Iom's planning?"

"You'd never understand." Hindel's voice had a touch of anger. "You're still just thinking of talking me into betraying Iom. You won't even consider that he might want what's right for the people of Iom. And I don't have time to give explanations that you won't even really listen to. I've put this off for too long as it is."

"Hindel..." Despite herself, Natasha felt the anxiety rising in her again. She held Deanna's hand tight. "Put what off, Hindel?"

"What I told you when my men took you from the house," Hindel answered impatiently. "The sacrifice. I shouldn't have put it off. King Amelo and Queen Gillian have been discretely sending out servants to try to find you, probably thinking you can talk me out of my mission. If they find you here, a lot of Iomites will turn against me. You're the heroes who helped Iom rise up from the ruins of King Warderer's reign... Many people wouldn't accept that I had no choice but to take you out of the picture. I can live with people thinking of me as a villain, but not if it means Iom's plan for us will be ruined. I can't delay this any longer."

Before Natasha could respond, the door to their cell was flung open. They could now see that Hindel was accompanied by at least three soldiers.

"Bring them," Hindel ordered.

Remembering the threat to their children, Deanna and Natasha did not resist. They just clasped each other's hand all the tighter, and Natasha realized with cold dread that she'd made a mistake. She'd said that Hindel would do the right thing in the end, and she firmly believed that.

The trouble was that from Hindel's perspective, what he was doing now was the right thing.

"Hindel," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "Hindel, would you please just listen?"

"No. You're just going to vilify Iom, and -"

"Hindel! Shut up and listen to your mother for one moment!" she snapped. "We love you. We love you so much. And what's killing us more than anything is that you're thinking of doing something that you would regret for the rest of your life. Please, just stop and think for a moment! Is this really the right thing for you to do? Whatever good you think you're doing for Iom, is it worth taking so many innocent lives?"

"...Son," Deanna offered. "I know how much you love Iom. And I'm proud that you... can feel compassion for a being like him. But... just doing whatever Iom tells you to... It's not right. You have to give consideration for people's lives, and for justice. Just taking orders... that's the easy way out."

Hindel stared at them. His features were warm with emotion again, like they had been before he told his men to take them from their home. Natasha thought she saw tears in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and embraced her. His arms clasped her gently, and he planted a warm kiss on her cheek. She hugged him back; it felt strange to hug the monstrous form of Iom, but it didn't matter because she knew it was her son's heart beating inside.

He released her and turned to hug and kiss his father as well. She looked on, happy to see the man she loved and the child they'd raised together like this, as if the shadow of Iom had never come between them. The hug ended after a few moments, with no awkwardness, only a sense that the love the two of them wanted to show each other had been shown.

Then suddenly, heartbreakingly, Hindel turned away from them and left, leaving only one simple command.

"Let's get this over with."


	32. Chapter 32: Situation Reassessment

\- Chapter 32: Situation Reassessment -

"This is now what you promised me," King Saul said, leaning back in his chair. Despite the comforting warmth of the lit fireplace, his three guests looked distinctively uncomfortable, which pleased him. Given their failure, his words and manner should put them ill at ease. "You promised that by this time, Cypress, Guardiana, Emild, and Tyber would all have approached me to propose an alliance against Iom. You're one for four at best. Cypress's emissary came from one of Nicholas and Mayfair's lesser children, not from their heir or the king and queen themselves, and naturally any offer of alliance was tentative. The other three nations..." He deliberately paused to sip his wine. "...I have not heard from at all."

One of his guests, a man with his long blond hair done in a ponytail behind his neck, stepped forward. "I think that you're overstating what we 'promised' you, just a bit," he put forth. "The time frame we gave you was a speculative estimate. Timing these things precisely, well, just isn't possible."

"Thank you for that clarification, Ruprick. So you deny that the delay is caused by a factor that you have failed to control? Such as, say, a new general of Iom who has conquered Emild practically overnight?" Ruprick went silent. "It's a little hard to form an alliance against Iom with a nation that is now a _part of_ Iom. It's also fairly hard for Emild's queen to convince her relations in the Tyber royal family that they need to protect her from marauding Iomites when she is being treated with perfect dignity under Iom's occupation. I was also given to understand that you were going to provide me with the opportunity to 'rescue' King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair from men posing as Iom soldiers, thus greasing the wheels of an alliance with Cypress, but it really is _remarkably_ hard for me to do that when the dear king and queen have seemingly vanished off the face of the world."

"That part may actually be to our advantage," a prim, dark-haired woman put forth. "We have reason to believe that General Hindel's men may have taken the king and queen of Cypress. If so, your rescue will be authentic and there will be no need for any acting."

"I'll be satisfied when that happens," Saul returned. "And when you've convinced me that there's even a chance of our getting Guardiana, Emild, and Tyber on board with this. Until then, I'm not getting Sharland embroiled in this."

"So you think you have a choice, yes?" the third guest, a man called Jepper, said. "I think you need reminding that Kerinam has more than enough troops ready to make a good shot of converting the continent without any allies. If you won't help us, then you must fight against us."

"What an unimaginative response." Saul sighed, and let his head droop farther into the chair. "I liked you people better when you were pushing your religion in Iom with public speeches and such. Faith, either in the gods or in the nonexistence of gods, isn't something I subscribe to, but I enjoy the fine art of persuading people to one's ideals. Why can't you practice that same strategy with the other nations? Kidnapping the king and queen of Cypress, fostering dissent against the monarchs of Guardiana and Emild, and now threatening direct conquest... it's all so... brutish."

The woman spoke up again. "Perhaps, but expediency is important. If we can take over a country quickly, then the process of turning them over to our ideals can be twice as easy and half as time-consuming. The monarch of Guardiana is old and without an established heir, and the king of Emild is weak-willed and lacking in thorough vigilance; those were opportunities too good not to take advantage of."

"Except that you've failed to take advantage on both counts, eh, Britta?" Saul sipped his wine again. "Oh, and save the threats of war against Sharland. If I catch even a hint of your trying to invade us, I can rally the other nations against you in no time at all, and by now I've acquired enough information on Kerinam that with my guidance, Kerinam's forces will be gutted. You either convince me to facilitate your transformation of this continent, or you abandon said transformation altogether. And given the problems that you're encountering..."

"There's really only one problem, which is General Hindel," Ruprick pointed out. "Or rather, the power that he supposedly receives from Iom. Without that, he'd be no more than a callow youth who no one would take notice of. Regardless, Hindel is the one who kept us from turning Iom from its religious fundamentalist ways, Hindel is the one who conquered Emild, Hindel is the one who took King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair out from under our very noses, and all things considered, it wouldn't dreadfully surprise me if Hindel was somehow responsible for Queen Anri taking back her decision to make Lady Ellen her heir. If we defeat Hindel, well, I daresay our problems will very quickly disappear."

Saul's eyes narrowed at Ruprick. "That's speculative. And don't treat me like a fool by belittling our enemies. I have servants in place to gather information on every other nation in this part of the world, so I know all about Hindel. His wielding the power of Iom makes it easier for people to believe he's the chosen one of a god, but he's formidable enough on his own. He has charisma. People believe in him, believe that he'll do what's right for them. And he's canny enough to manipulate the king and queen of Iom into going along with him. Mystic power or no mystic power, he's a worthy opponent." He paused to sip his wine. "I'll agree with you on one point, though; defeating Hindel may not eliminate all your problems, but you'll never eliminate all your problems without defeating him. Have you got a plan for doing that, or have you come here to implore me to do your thinking for you?"

The two men looked a bit ruffled by his reply, but if Britta felt the same, she didn't show it. "We are perfectly capable of formulating a plan to deal with Hindel, but we need more information on him. Given that you have, if you take my meaning, been here much longer than we have, we thought you could help us in that regard."

"Certainly." He drummed his fingers. "He's the second child of Deanna and Natasha, two renowned heroes of Iom. They led the army which rescued King Nicholas from Iom, killed the mad King Warderer, and helped locate his missing son, our current King Amelo. They also saved Amelo's life and helped arrange his marriage to Gillian. After that they set about raising their children whilst occasionally helping to rearrange Iom law. I may have overlooked a point or two but that's the gist of it as far as they go. Deanna and Natasha know more than all but a few about strategy, magic, and combat, and going by Hindel's smooth conquest of Emild, it's safe to say that they taught him all of it. Politics is perhaps another story, since Deanna and Natasha tended not to bring their children along to diplomatic events."

"While I'm suitably impressed at how well-informed you are, we were thinking more along the lines of what weaknesses he might have," Jepper said.

"Of course. I was getting to that." He sipped his wine again. "As far as family goes, I am way ahead of you on that, as are King Amelo and Queen Gillian. Unfortunately for all of us, Hindel's parents and siblings have all gone missing. Possibly coincidence, but given his track record, I'd wager that Hindel took steps to ensure that no one could use his family as leverage against him. His only known friends are the members of his so-called Shining Force." His lip briefly curled with distaste at the self-righteous title. "The elder human in the group is often close by him, but my instinct tells me the little healer girl would be your best hope."

"But who's to say if Hindel is romantically inclined at all?" Ruprick said, holding his hands out to his sides. "He is, well, a holy man."

"All the more reason. I've never believed in the existence of a priest who isn't hiding repressed urges beneath his or her robes."

"A foolish assumption," Britta remarked, studying her wrist with a bored expression. "I've never desired a serious relationship with a man, or woman for that matter, and I'm not even religious inclined."

Saul smiled. "Ah, Britta. You people may be assured of your rightness, but your blind certainty that there are no gods is as much a religion as any which Hindel and his followers preach, and in your way you are very much a priestess of that faith."

"You speak from ignorance. And the point remains: The healer girl is just a blind guess."

"Not really. But let's move on."

"Yes, let's," Jepper said. "Hindel is a driven man, yes? In my experience, leverage doesn't work all that well on driven men. He'd very likely let us kill all his friends, and his priestess lover, if that's indeed what she is, rather than give up his mad fight. The key to beating Hindel is taking away his special power."

Saul raised a brow. "You're a more astute man than I gave you credit for, Jepper. Very well. So you three accept that Hindel does in fact wield the power of Iom?"

"There is no such being as Iom. What I accept is that Hindel either wields some special power, or is a convincing enough charlatan that it makes little difference."

Ruprick nodded. "That is exactly what Silas's... well, last reports indicated."

"A pity," Saul remarked. "They haven't done much in the way of replacing him."

"Actually, I've taken Silas's place as commander in charge of Iom operations."

"Oh good, you almost caught on to what I was implying," Saul yawned. "Alright. So you three accept that Hindel wields a special power. We'll call it the power of Iom; whether or not Iom actually exists is besides the point. According to historical accounts, there is one way – and only one – to defeat that power. Unfortunately, it's in Cypress's hands right now, so unless you get that alliance..."

"We'll have to resort to a war with them, yes?" Jepper said. "Well, avoiding war with Cypress will make excellent motivation for Valeria. I'll put her in charge of negotiating with the Cypress royal family."

"Very good, but even if you secure the defeat of Hindel, have you a plan for finishing things with Iom?"

"That part is trivial," Britta said. "Once we defeat Hindel, the rest of his Shining Force can easily be vanquished. After Hindel and the Shining Force fall, Iomites' newfound faith in their god will dissolve as abruptly as it appeared. And if their faith is gone, so too will be their warmongering and resistance to the truth. I should be surprised if King Amelo doesn't order an immediate surrender as soon as the Shining Force is ended. Even if he doesn't, he will simply be fighting a losing battle."

"Sounds reasonable. What about a backup plan for defeating Hindel?"

"I have a smattering of one," Ruprick offered. "Hindel may have the king and queen wrapped around his finger, but there must be some disapproval for his unprovoked invasion of Emild among their people. If so, we can rally them to rise up against Hindel and end his madness."

"I require more information before I can put forth a plan," Britta said. "But I find it hard to believe that any chance of an alliance with Guardiana is lost. If we can't have Ellen as queen of Guardiana, perhaps we can negotiate with Queen Anri. As devoted as she may be to that religious nonsense about the Light and the Darkness, she is no friend of the god Iom and very much a friend of Sharland."

"Well, now. You lot are actually starting to sound competent." King Saul finished his wine and set the glass aside. "Unless there's anything else you'd like to discuss, this seems a good time to end this meeting."

Jepper nodded. "My compatriots may go, but you and I should hammer out the specifics of how we are to negotiate an alliance with the Cypress royal family, yes?"

"Certainly."

Britta and Ruprick left, with Britta turning to give a curt nod just before closing the door behind her.

Saul got up from his chair. "That woman really _is_ a priestess. Practically no femininity in her at all, just hard service to her ideals." A smile touched his lips. "Though I suppose I'm hardly one to talk."

"I think you are," Jepper said. His voice had changed, becoming unsettlingly serpentine. Saul's thoughts flicked to the assassin he had hiding in the shadows of the ceiling, ready to strike if his guests tried anything. "Before we get into the business with Cypress, let's get back to the subject of leverage, yes? You seem to be getting comfortable with ordering us around and making threats, so I think I need to point out that we have leverage against you."

The king spun around to face Jepper. "If you lay so much as a finger upon Caroline..."

"Ah, a nice effort at misdirection. I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but we are well aware that your wife is little more than a brood mare to you. Lose her and you can easily acquire another to bear you more children. Our leverage against you is your sister, Muriel."

Saul sneered. "Muriel and I have scarcely spoken to each other in years."

"But not by your choice, was it?" Jepper pushed his spectacles up his nose. "To be fair, Saul, you are truly talented at hiding your emotions, but even you are not perfect. And one of my agents has become acquainted with Muriel, enough so that she willingly told him how you had done something unspeakably wrong in a misguided attempt to make her happy."

"That was then. This is now." Saul turned away to prevent his face from betraying him. "Besides, you wouldn't dare harm Muriel. She's a member of the royal family, and the backlash against Kerinam..."

"You do realize that I've already made King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair disappear without a trace, yes? I can easily do the same for Muriel. Our technology allows us to do things you can scarcely dream of."

Saul said nothing. Jepper wasn't bluffing. And much as he'd like to claim superiority over Kerinam, their technology was an unknown quantity.

"Britta and Ruprick don't have the stomach for this sort of thing. They just want everybody to wake up to the truth, stop all the senseless wars over whose god is better than whose, and live like civilized human beings who have outgrown their fairy tales. Which is what I want, too, of course, but I also believe in using whatever means necessary to accomplish that. Britta wouldn't even have made arrangements for Queen Anri's death if she saw any hope of turning her away from her subservience to the Light. That's why I wanted to talk to you about this privately."

_I shouldn't care,_ Saul told himself. _Muriel never loved me half as much as I have always loved her, and even that ended with the incident with Mayfair. I've scarcely seen Muriel since her wedding. Our pleasant discussions, listening to her adorable romantic ramblings, are a thing of the past. I should not care._

_ But I do. Muriel means more to me than anyone but my children. Thankfully Jepper won't harm them, at least, since that would threaten the Sharland family line. But I must remain calm._

"What is the point of this unpleasantness?" he said. "However much you dislike my manner, we are working towards the same goals."

"You threatened us, Your Majesty," Jepper returned. "So I need to explain to you how this is going to work. We are going to do our best to secure for Sharland the defeat of General Hindel and a position as the ruling nation of this part of the world, just as we promised, and you are going to see that our ideals are followed in this part of the world, just as you promised. If that plan goes wrong, you will have Sharland join Kerinam in direct military action against Iom without any further complaints about getting involved in a war. And if at any time I have reason to believe you are betraying us, you will not even have the chance to bid your sister goodbye."

Jepper turned to leave.

Saul prompted, "And the negotiations with the Cypress royal family?"

Jepper shrugged. "Those should be no problem. I didn't mention it in front of Britta and Ruprick, but I've already arranged it to look like Iom abducted the king and queen of Cypress, so the Cypress family won't need much encouragement to join the fight against Iom. We'll leave it to Valeria to work out the details. Peaceful negotiations are much more her forte than mine, yes?"


	33. Chapter 33: Josh and Dusty to the Rescue

\- Chapter 33: Dusty and Joshua to the Rescue -

Dusty peered out between the branches. "There it is," he said. "The palace."

Josh looked to his big brother. "Um, yeah. I _have_ seen it before, you know. You're sure that's where they're holding Mom and Dad and the others?"

"Of course not. But since the holding cells in Iom's shrines were all dismantled years ago, this is the most logical place to look." With no one else in sight, he leapt out of the bushes. "Come on."

They scampered across the grass. Night was falling, which made it much less likely they'd be seen if someone came to a window, but Josh kept thinking of how much more suspicious they'd look if someone did see them. When Dusty took his grappling line off his shoulder and threw the hook up to a window ledge, however, he felt anxiety of a different sort.

"Um, Dusty," he said. "Isn't there a better way in?"

"Oh, that's right," Dusty said as he tested that the hook was secure. "I forgot that you're afraid of heights."

It annoyed Josh that Dusty didn't stop what he was doing when he said that. "No, not exactly. It's just that putting yourself in a spot where losing your grip for just a second, or someone in the palace noticing the hook, will send you to your death seems pretty _dumb_."

"Fair enough." Dusty released the rope and propped himself up against the castle wall with one hand, resting the other hand on his hip. "But here's our alternatives. One, we go through the front door. If we do that one of Hindel's goons is bound to recognize us, and even I wouldn't stand a chance of fighting off that many guards. I might slip by if you were to distract them, but you don't know much about providing distractions, do you?"

When he said this, Dusty gave him another of those odd serious looks, like he was expecting him to say something in particular. It was starting to weird Josh out. Dusty had been acting a bit strange in general since their reunion. It was true that their own brother had abducted their family and tried to kill them, but it didn't feel like that was what this was about.

"I don't like the idea of getting the guards to chase me," he said, raising an eyebrow at Dusty. "If that's what you're getting at."

Dusty just stared at him for a moment. "...Right. So two, we go around town recruiting allies, coordinate a battle plan, and -"

"What if we used disguises?"

"Huh?"

"In a lot of the stories Mom and Dad read us, the heroes get past the guards by wearing fake beards or something, and pulling their hoods forward to make it hard to see their faces. Why don't we do that?"

Dusty sighed. "Josh, where am I going to get credible disguises for us?"

"Oh. Um..."

"As I was saying," he went on before Josh could answer. "Two, we recruit allies from around town and storm the palace. That'll take a long time, time which Hindel could use to sacrifice our family, and will cause a lot of unnecessary bloodshed. Three, we find one of the palace's toilet chutes and climb up it. Keep in mind that someone can use the chute at any time that we're making our climb, and probably will. So," he folded his arms, "...any of those sound more appealing to you?"

_I wish Mom and Dad were here. They'd never make me climb five stories up the palace wall._

"Okay, fine," he grumbled. "But if I end up lying on the ground with all my bones broken, it's on _your_ head."

"You don't have to come. You can just wait out here for me to bring everyone out."

"Or for the guards to come looking for me. Yeeeeaaaahhhh, I don't think so. Let's just get this over with." Dusty took hold of the rope again. "Um, do you mind if I go first?"

"My being below you doesn't mean I can catch you if you fall. Most likely you'll just knock me down with you."

"I'd just feel better that way."

"Fine, so long as you understand what I just said."

Josh stepped up and took hold of the rope. He planted one foot against the wall. He pulled himself up the rope, hand over hand, and then planted his other foot against the wall. He was now horizontal. So far so good. He felt comfortable. But it was going to get worse.

"Try to move it a little faster, Josh. You'll just wear out your arm muscles moving at that pace."

"I'm going as fast as I can," he snapped. Even putting aside the concern that their family might be dead, being a hero's sidekick wasn't what it was cracked up to be.

As he kept climbing, though, he found he was able to increase his speed a bit. Reaching one hand up, then the other higher still, accompanied each time by a stride of his legs, he was getting into a rhythm. Then Dusty started climbing up as well. There was a jolt in the rope at the addition of this new burden, and Josh clung tight to the rope in response, squeezing his eyes shut.

"It helps if you don't look down," Dusty offered.

"Wow, thanks! Great advice!" Despite Josh's best effort, there was not as much sarcasm in his voice as there was panic.

"Josh, you can't just stop like that. We need to keep moving."

"I... can't!" The short length of rope he was clinging to was the one bit of stability he could find in his current precarious position.

"Josh, you're only a few feet off the ground." Josh didn't move. "If you don't move now, your arms are going to get tried, and you're going to fall, and then you won't have the courage to try it again. You won't be able to help save Mom, Dad, Amy, Amber, Dawn, Jacey, and Malcolm. Is that what you want?"

That didn't quite do it, but it got him thinking. Thinking of his brothers, Hindel was a hardcore religious devotee even before he got possessed or whatever by Iom, Dusty was a fearless hero who would singlehandedly invade Iom's palace to liberate his family, and Malcolm had already picked up a wasp with his bare hands. Meanwhile, he was the one stuck on a rope cowering five feet above the ground. Joshua didn't know if he wanted to be a clown or a thief, but he knew that he didn't want to be forgettable.

The fingers of one hand loosened, let go of the rope. He pulled up hard with the other hand, and reached up with the first hand for the next length of rope.

He did it all without real thought, just blind resolve. It was if he was just deliberately ignoring his fear of heights. The window where the grappling hook lay drew nearer and nearer, and it struck him that the climb was a journey of just a few seconds.

Dusty wasn't prodding him along with words anymore. He felt strong, unstoppable.

And then, almost too soon, he was at the window ledge. He almost effortlessly pushed himself over it and into the room. Dusty came up right behind him, and he grinned proudly at his big brother. "Did it."

"About time," Dusty grunted as he unhooked the rope and started pulling it up. While his brother worked, Josh idly glanced out the window at where they'd come from. In that one glance he took in the potential fall of a hundred feet. He suddenly felt sick, and looked away.

"We won't have to do that again, will we?" he mumbled.

Dusty studied him for a second. "Don't worry," he said, clapping a reassuring hand on Josh's shoulder. "I'm sure we'll find Mom and Dad here, and once we free them we can take care of Hindel if he's here, then take control of the castle. We won't need to sneak out at all."

He squinted up at Dusty. "What do you mean, 'take care of Hindel'?"

For a moment Dusty just looked back at him blankly, which made Josh uneasy. "Josh, you realize what's going on, don't you? Hindel is a bad guy now. He's killing people for Iom. He's trying to kill us. We may be the only ones who can stop him. That means we have to kill him."

"...You have _got_ to be kidding." Dusty said nothing. "Dusty, he's our brother!"

"That doesn't change what has to be done."

"But you don't even know if this is really Hindel's doing! He looks and acts just like he's been possessed by Iom! We've got to find a way to free him!"

"Come off it, Josh. First off, you don't even believe Iom exists, so don't go telling me you think he's possessed Hindel. Second, we both know that when Hindel left home, his whole plan was to do whatever Iom wants. No one needed to possess him to make him do what he's doing."

"That's not true! Hindel always said that killing and sacrificing people who don't want to be sacrificed is wrong! What this guy with Hindel's face is doing – that's not Hindel!"

"That's Hindel all over. It's the natural progression of an Iom-worshipping fanatic. Anyone who serves Iom resorts to murder eventually." He made sure his sword belt was secure and walked towards the door. "I've known this day was coming ever since Hindel left home to become a priest."

Joshua glared at Dusty, his words sparking something in him he'd rarely felt: anger. "You don't even care if Hindel's possessed or not! You just want to prove you're a hero by killing a villain! If you really cared about people, instead of just being a big hero, you'd at least _try_ to help Hindel!"

Dusty glared right back at him. "I am not going to be lectured about morality by a liar and a thief."

Josh lost his train of thought. "I... what?"

"Don't play dumb. I caught you and your friend right in the act, and I know a diversionary tactic when I see one."

He suddenly felt a massive lump in his throat. "...You knew?"

"Of course I knew. I kept quiet about it, thinking you'd confess to me on your own, but even with my giving you opportunity after opportunity to come clean, you kept up the lie. All those years Mom and Dad taught us about right and wrong, about helping people, and now you and Hindel have both turned to outright evil. Our parents are the most good and kind people you could meet, so you have no excuse. We're going to rescue our family together, but after that, you're no longer my brother, understand? The next time I catch you stealing, I'm turning you over to the authorities. And that's -"

There was a faint creaking sound, and Dusty whirled around to face its source. The door to the room had cracked open, and a girl was peaking through it. Even through the slim crack, Josh could see that she had bright red hair, mischievously penetrating eyes, and fair skin. He was struck with the unfamiliar thought that she was pretty.

Dusty lunged forward and seized the girl by the arm before she could close the door. He yanked her inside the room, kicked the door closed, and covered her mouth with his free hand, all in one smooth motion. The girl's eyes went wide and she tried in vain to scream against Dusty's hand. He shoved her down onto the bed, grabbed a washcloth that was lying nearby, and wrapped it over her mouth.

"Hey... hey! Dusty, what're you -"

"Shut up and hand me the rope."

Josh did as he asked, partly because he intuitively got the idea that if they didn't do something about the girl, she'd alert the rest of the palace, and partly because he was too caught off-guard by the situation to think for himself. The girl made muffled screams against the washcloth as Dusty used the rope to tie up her hands and legs. This done, he scooped the girl up in his arms, stuffed her into the closet, and closed the door. He nodded at Josh. "Alright, let's move it."

"Wait a second! We can't just leave her in there! She could be trapped for days before anyone finds her!"

"Not much chance of that." He had reopened the door and was checking to see if the coast was clear. "Once we free Mom and Dad, even if we have to flee, there'll be such a ruckus that they'll go searching for anyone who's missing."

"But you said Mom and Dad might not even be here! What if -"

But Dusty wasn't spending any more time on discussion. He bolted out into the hallway and turned right, on the way to fulfilling their mission.

"Damn," Josh muttered. "Am I the only sane person left in this family?"

The logical thing to do was follow after Dusty right away. That was obviously what Dusty was assuming he'd do, and Josh wouldn't stand much chance if he got separated from him. He was, after all, a 14-year-old boy (albeit one whose 15th birthday was just days away) in a palace run by some bloodthirsty demon general. And against those odds, even Dusty might need his help. Not to mention it might be up to him to stop his two big brothers from killing each other. Josh wasn't deluded enough to think it likely that he'd be the one to make a difference, but so long as there was even a slim chance that his being there would save Hindel or Dusty, it was pretty obvious what he should do.

But Josh had never been one to do what he was supposed to do. He went to the closet and opened up the door. The girl stared up at him, uncertain.

_See, this is another reason why I can't ever get into prayer and all that stuff. No amount of prayer is going to make the Light forgive me for all the irresponsible stuff I do. _"Hey," he said. "Sorry about that; my brother's being an asshole right now. I'll untie you if you promise not to scream or get the guards or anything."

The girl looked at him a second more, then nodded.

He knew she was very likely lying, but he just couldn't leave her like that, any more than he could just let Dusty and Hindel kill each other. He bent down and removed the washcloth from her mouth.

"Thank you," she said as he started working on the knots around her wrists. She had a soft, earnest voice, and he felt his face growing warm with embarrassment.

"Um. Don't mention it?" He wasn't used to people thanking him for anything important, and he certainly wasn't used to the feeling the girl's nearness created in his stomach. "And, uh, thank _you_ for not screaming. Dusty and I really aren't here to hurt anyone. It's just that our family was taken away by soldiers, and Dusty thinks they probably took them here."

"So he's Dusty." She sat back, letting him do his work with the knots. He was nervous about touching her, so it was slow going. "And who are you?"

"Oh! Sorry. I'm Josh. What's your name?"

"Becky," she answered, making a face. "It's an icky, bland name, but I'm stuck with it." Josh thought it was a nice name that kind of suited her, but obviously he couldn't say that, so he said nothing. "So why did soldiers take your family away?"

"Well, my parents are opposed to the things General Hindel has been doing. So he wanted to stop them from interfering." He couldn't think of a better way to explain it without telling her that his parents were the famous Deanna and Natasha, and he didn't want to tell her that.

Her hands were freed now, but Becky still made no move to help him untie her legs. "It's good to hear someone is doing something to stand up to General Hindel. My parents always say we shouldn't talk bad about our leaders, but all this war-making and religious stuff... it's insane."

"Exactly!" It was a relief to find someone else who didn't think killing people for your own personal cause was right. "Say, you haven't heard about any new prisoners being brought here, have you?"

"Just some people from Cypress. No one that could be your family." She gave him a mischievous grin that made his heart skip a beat, and not just because it startled him. "But I might know where you can get the keys."

"Really?" This offer didn't excite him too much; it was rather convenient, and he didn't know this girl well enough to think she wouldn't pull a prank like that. After all, he'd do it in her place. Even so, he deliberately feigned interest in his voice.

"My dad's friends with one of the dungeon guards. I got interested in taking a look down there, but my dad won't let me, so I've been following his friend around. It seems like he keeps the keys in the guard house. I haven't gotten the chance to sneak in there yet, but I've seen him go in there with the keys and leave without them. You know where the guard house is?" Josh shook his head, and finished the last knot. "I'll show you. Come on."

The story made sense, but a good prankster could also be a good liar. Still, they had to start looking for the cell keys somewhere. And if it meant hanging around with this girl for a little while, well, so much the better.

Becky was out the door and turning left. Pulling out of his momentary indecision, Josh leapt after her and caught her by the arm.

"Hey!"

"Hang on. I've got to get Dusty."

Her face scrunched up in disgust. "Can we not?"

"We might need his help. Besides, I've... I've kind of gotta keep an eye on him."

"For someone breaking into a palace, you're a real goody two shoes, you know that?" Josh went red. "Fine. But if I see even a hint of him planning to stuff a rag in my mouth again, I'm going to scream loud enough for every guard in the palace to hear."

Josh wasn't worried about that; even Dusty had enough common sense to see that if Becky were going to call for the guards, she would have done so by now.

They took off in the direction Dusty had gone in, and not for the first time Josh wished his parents had let him spend more time at the palace. If he'd had more chance to learn the layout, he might have been able to make an educated guess at where his brother was headed. As it was, he didn't even recognize where they were now.

As they came up the end of the hall, however, Dusty turned the corner, headed in their direction.

"Josh! Thank the Light!" he said in a pronounced whisper. "What have you been -" He noticed Becky. "Wow. You really do not understand how serious this situation is, do you?"

"We can't just lock innocent people up in closets," Josh said, but his voice had less of the firmness of his words and more of the meekness and uncertainty he felt. Dusty was bigger than him in more than just size and age. And the awareness that Becky was watching their exchange made him all the more anxious about how he came off.

"Our family is going to be killed, Josh. And you're jeopardizing their rescue to uphold the fine points of chivalry. Now come on."

"Look, she knows where the cell keys are!"

"As if I wouldn't have had a plan for finding them anyway," Dusty sighed. "Fine. Lead the way, girl."

"She has a name," Josh tried, but his voice came out so subdued that it was embarrassing.

Becky gave him a look as she brushed past him. Once it was clear that Dusty was guarding their rear, she muttered back at him, "You sure about what you said about him just being an asshole right _now_? It kind of feels like this is his usual thing."

"He has his good points. Honest."

He felt a bit caught. He wanted to defend Dusty – not that it really bothered him to hear his brother insulted, but he didn't want to look bad by association – but he balked at the idea of disagreeing too strenuously with Becky.

She led them downstairs, to the ground floor. Each step down rang uncomfortably loud. "It's along the East wall," she said. "Come on."

Dusty suddenly pulled her back and pressed both her and Joshua flat against the wall, holding a finger to his lips. They followed his lead, remaining silent as a guard trotted past. Josh thought he recognized one of his Mom's friends, but since Dusty still made no move to reveal himself neither did he.

Once she was gone, Josh ventured, "Y'know... Mom and Dad are pretty popular around here. And I'll bet most people aren't really that convinced that worshiping Iom is great after all. If we just tell one of the guards what's going on, they'll probably help us set our family free."

Dusty shook his head. "We can't take that chance. Come on."

They found the guard house; Becky hadn't lied. But predictably, there was a guard inside. Dusty decked him with his right the moment he opened the door, and just as swiftly leapt upon him, covering his mouth, before rapping his head once upon the floor to knock him out.

"Grab the keys! Let's move!" Dusty ordered, then darted back outside.

Josh and Becky frantically searched the tables and hooks in the guard house for a few seconds, and found two sets of keys. Not bothering to examine them to determine whether they were duplicates, Josh grabbed them both and ran after his brother. Becky didn't immediately notice that he'd gotten the keys, so without thinking he grabbed her hand to pull her along. He knew why Dusty was suddenly so hurried; a girl locked in a closet could be overlooked for quite a while, but an unconscious man in a guard house would be discovered within minutes.

They ran through the halls towards the dungeon, paying no heed to the disapproving looks the castle's adult residents cast at them. No doubt to them, they were just a trio of kids fooling around.

Once he reached the dungeon door, Dusty frantically gestured at it. Josh let go of Becky's hand and flicked through the keys until he found the one to unlock it.

The guard waiting inside immediately brandished his sword and cried out an alarm. Dusty drew his own sword and clashed weapons with him. He called out, "Don't worry about me; find them!"

Josh and Becky ducked past the two combatants, and looked over the dungeon cells. In one cell there were three beastmen, in another three humans, two of them with an incongruously dignified bearing. A third cell had a kyantol and a centaur, both female. In the fourth cell was a lizardman peering eagerly at Hindel and the guard, as if he wanted to join in the combat.

Josh continued to cast his eyes around hopelessly. "They're not here," he groaned.

"Hey, wait a second," Becky called, examining the far end of the dungeon hall. "This looks like a trapdoor."

Brushing away some of the dirt from the floor, they confirmed she was right. It was a heavy door, but between the two of them they were able to lift it without much trouble. As they slipped underneath, Becky smirked at him. "That was a pretty smooth move earlier, holding my hand like that."

He hadn't even thought about it until that moment. "Y-yeah, I just needed to get you coming somehow." Becky looked away, back towards their destination, and he wished he had come up with a better response. Something... nicer? Or cleverer, at least.

At the bottom of the stairs was another row of cells, and inside them was... "Dawn! Amy! Jacey! Malcolm! Amber!" Josh cried out with utter relief.

Dawn and Malcolm were in one cell, the others in a second one. They all rushed to the bars as Josh got to work on opening the door to the second cell.

"Josh! What are you doing here?!" Dawn demanded.

"What's it look like? I'm setting you all free!" he grinned.

"How did you get here all by yourself?" Amy asked.

"Who's she?" Malcolm said, pointing at Becky.

"Oh gods thank you thank you thank you thank you..." Amber babbled.

"You stupid jerk! If they catch you here, they'll throw you in a cell too!"

"Don't yell, Dawn..." Jacey quietly pleaded.

"Yes, keep quiet, Dawn, or they really will catch us here," Amy remonstrated.

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh, do you think you could _all_ keep quiet for a minute? Finding the right key on this ring is not as easy as you'd think."

With that, though, he finally succeeded in turning the lock and opening the door. The three of them rushed out, Amber throwing her arms around Josh and pushing her tearful face against his chest. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you..."

"Who's she?" Malcolm repeated, louder and with a more exaggerated pointing.

"Come on, Amber, let go of him," Amy said, tugging on her shoulder. "He still has to free Dawn and Malcolm."

"Josh, where's Dusty?" Jacey said, with her usual earnest compassion. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. He's here with me." He couldn't stop grinning.

"Oh dear gods Josh you have no idea what it was like in there..." Amber babbled on, even as she allowed Amy to pull her off of him.

"Who's she?"

"Wow," Becky said, staring at them all. "I wish I had brothers and sisters."

"Believe me, you _really_ don't," Josh said, as he turned to opening Dawn and Malcolm's cell. It was the same key, so he had it open in a jiffy.

"You dope head," Dawn said, though her voice was thick with relief. "You really should have gotten help instead of wasting time rescuing us."

"Who's she?"

"This is Becky, Malcolm," Josh answered. "She helped me break in here."

"So..." Dawn was grinning broadly. "You've got a girlfriend now, huh?"

"I've got a better question. Where are Mom and Dad?"

Just like that, the cacophony of the siblings went to dead silence.

Amy said, "They put them in one of the cells upstairs. So they're not still there?"

"Nope, and I don't think you have time to worry about that," Becky put in. "You guys have got to get out of here before they catch you."

"Good point. Malcolm won't be able to keep up with the rest of us. Josh, you carry him."

Josh didn't like Amy's bossiness and had never carried any of his siblings before. But now was not the time for petty arguments, so he scooped Malcolm up onto his shoulders and raced behind Becky to the top of the stairs.

On the upper level, they found Dusty holding back a swarm of guards, struggling to keep them from advancing past the dungeon entrance. They were trapped.

"What now?" Amber wondered.

"We've gotta fight past them somehow," Josh said. "There's no other way out of here."

"Ah, but there issss." The lizardman in the cell grinned at them. "I can ssshow you if you let me free."

Amy regarded him warily. "What are you in here for?"

"How important issss that at a time like thissss?" the prisoner retorted. "Without my help, we'll all be trapped here!"

She scowled. "If I didn't have my little brothers and sisters to worry about, I'd die rather than set a criminal free. Let him out, Josh."

Josh obeyed with no hesitation; he had no intention of staying here to become a sacrifice to Iom, regardless of who he had to free. But as he turned the key in the lock, he whispered to the lizardman, "If you want to get out of here, tell my brother you're in here for trying to stop a human sacrifice, all right?"

"Why you whisperin'?" Malcolm said, clinging tighter to Josh's shoulders so he wouldn't fall off.

The lizardman nodded, stepped out, and pointed to the cell opposite his. "Ssssome lunatic named Brehen wassss in there, but he tunneled out through the wall. They haven't gotten around to repairing it yet."

The siblings clambered into the cell and started yanked out the loose bricks.

The kyantol prisoner cried, "Hey, let us out too!"

Josh rolled his eyes. "This isn't a mass jailbreak, okay? I'm just here for my brothers and sisters."

One of the humans pressed against the bars. "I'm Prince Eli of Cypress, and this is King Nicholas's cousin Barro! If you don't let us out, General Hindel is going to invade Cypress and sacrifice everyone there to Iom!"

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh, _that's_ a believable one, 'Your Highness'."

"We _totally_ believe that!" Malcolm happily mimicked his brother's sarcasm.

Barro stepped forward. "Look, your friend up there -"

"He's not my friend. He's my big brother."

"- can't hold the guards off much longer. If you let us all out, I'll save him."

The first part was obviously true; Dusty had already taken a wound in his side. Whether Barro could save him was doubtful on the face of it, but he said it with such earnestness and dignity that it was hard not to believe him. It reminded Josh of his dad, a little.

Once the decision was made, he didn't waste time with talking. He shoved the key in and turned.

Barro didn't waste time either, scooping up a sword from a fallen guard and pushing Dusty aside. "Go! Get out of here with your siblings! We'll hold them off! Eli, get the others out so they can help me cover their escape!"

Barro's order was unnecessary; against Josh's protest, Eli had already snatched the keys from him and started unlocking the beastman cell. The third human, with no weapon at hand, rushed to Barro's side and started grappling with an armed guard. Even with the guards' path of attack so narrow, the Cypressians were hopelessly outnumbered.

Dusty, meanwhile, was reuniting with his brother. "Josh! Who are these people?"

"Prince Eli of Cypress and his men. Pretty brave, aren't they?"

"Brave or not, they need our help. Together we can -"

"No way, buster," Amy interrupted, grabbing the scruff of his shirt. "You may be off on your own now, but you still have a responsibility to your brothers and sisters. You can play hero once we've gotten little Jacey, Amber, and Malcolm to safety."

Dusty cast one last look back at the fight. The three beastmen had joined in; the tide was turning. He then allowed himself to be pulled back to his family. They had worked the last of the bricks loose and were scrambling through the hole. Josh let Becky go ahead before setting down Malcolm so they could climb through.

The hole lead out into the city street. As Josh anticipated, palace guards were waiting there. Except they were all unconscious. Night had fully fallen now, and he had to squint as he scanned their surroundings. He spotted a glimmer of movement from a nearby window. On a hunch, he darted to the door of the house and flung it open. Inside he found the reason for the unconsciousness of the guards.

"Uncle Dust!" he exclaimed with surprised joy. "I can't believe – I was starting to think you'd abandoned us!"

Dust chuckled. "Of course not. I was simply giving priority to the first-born."

Josh felt his heart swell. "You mean..."

"Ha ha ha. See for yourself." He opened the door to the next room. Inside stood a very familiar man and woman.

"Carla!" Amy cried, running to her big sister's arms. "And Ryan!"

Carla hugged Amy tight, tears running down her face. "Amy. Dusty. Josh. Amber. Dawn. Jacey. Malcolm. All of you... you're all okay. Thank the Light!"

Ryan stood beside his wife, a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Good to see you all," he said. "Iom soldiers came for us, and we'd never have gotten away if Dust hadn't been there to save us. Carla's been worried about what happened to you all ever since."

"I can't believe it," Amber remarked. "Everything's turned out okay!"

"Not everything!" Jacey protested. "What about Hindel?"

The others mostly ignored her, busy as they were with hugging and talking to Carla and Ryan.

Josh, however, felt a bit awkward at having such an emotional reunion in front of Becky, who was essentially, well, a stranger. He turned to her. "We'd better split up here, or you might get in trouble. Tell them you were taken hostage by us, and got away, okay?"

"Sure," she said. "Thanks again for bringing me along. It was fun."

She ran off, her red hair bobbing along her back, and gave him a last parting wave. He found himself again disarmed by her mischievous eyes, and vaguely wondering how he might contrive to see her again. Apart from everything else, he was intrigued that she would refer to running through a dank dungeon, dodging guards, and releasing prisoners as "fun". She was either insane, or tougher than nails.

Dust spoke up. "Though it might seem deplorable to break up such a tearful reunion, especially of a family such as this, we need to get moving or we'll be found. We can catch up once we're safely outside the capital."

There was some protest from the younger ones, and Dusty was still somewhat in favor of staying to overthrow the current government, but they all had the sense not to argue about it for long. Dust showed them to a backdoor, and together the family slipped away into the night.


	34. Chapter 34: Prophecy Fulfilled

\- Chapter 34: Prophecy Fulfilled -

"We're through!" Eli cried, hefting his borrowed spear in triumph, as he reached the top of the dungeon stairs.

"Don't let your guard down," Barro warned. "We still need to get out of here before reinforcements arrive."

"Agreed. But we can't leave without our weapons."

"Huh? Why not?" Caleb piped up.

"Eli's sword is special," Barro answered for him. "And he's right. No matter the risk, we've got to get it back. Come on, everyone. I have a good idea where they might be keeping it."

* * *

Hindel walked among the troops, observing their training. He anticipated that Cypress would be another easy conquest, due to their monarchs and heir both being out of action, but being prepared was the one sensible course. And as he'd hoped, the Iom army had thus far had little opportunity to hone their skills on the battlefield.

Redgar and Bradford were sparring with each other with wooden swords. The pair of them had been favoring each other as trading partners. Hindel wished he could say for sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing; by now they would have learned each other's weak points, meaning they would be forced to learn how to either overcome or compensate for them, and Hindel certainly couldn't begrudge their camaraderie; on the other hand, it diverted them from learning how to fight different types of opponents.

Redgar swung his blade down towards Bradford's shoulders, a powerful blow that would probably have finished any dwarf had it been done with an actual weapon. Bradford parried it, and Redgar glided over him to land face-first in the dirt. Before he could scramble back to his feet, Bradford had the point of his blade pressed against his neck.

"I yield," Redgar growled grudgingly. Bradford nodded and sheathed his sword. "That move wass well done – very quick."

"Yes it was," Hindel inserted. "And it sounds like you've been working on your lisp, Redgar." The lizardman nodded with apparent pleasure that he'd noticed. "Now you just need to work on controlling the momentum of your moves. It won't matter in most fights, but a skilled opponent like Bradford can easily take advantage of that."

Redgar nodded again, but looked abashed this time. Hindel moved on. He had other troops to check on, other potentially life-saving instructions to give.

Midway down the ranks, he saw Nancie practicing her healing skills on troops who had taken heavy bruises in practice. She was as beautiful as ever, tender and diligent in caring for the injured, and forever beyond his reach.

"I see you've found a way of training with us, Nancie," he said, stopping beside her. "Do you think you're ready for a real battle, though?"

"I pray so," she said, still focusing on treating a soldier's leg. "My endurance is increasing, so as long as everyone else does their job well, we shouldn't see a repeat of my failure at Rebora."

"Good. And have you been studying Aura, like I suggested?"

"Yes." Her eyes lowered. "It's even more complicated than I had feared. I... I can't even promise I'll have mastered level one by the next time we go into battle. I'll do my best, but -"

"No 'but's. Do your best. That's all Iom asks of you. All he asks of any of us." Hindel moved on again.

"Hindel, wait." He stopped, but did not turn around. Nancie cleared her throat. "We haven't talked for a while... just you and me, I mean. When we're done here, do you think we could... chat for a while?"

"Nancie, do you remember what you said to me the last time we were alone together?" Nancie did not answer. "You said that you weren't going to allow my feelings to get in the way of my mission. If you really meant that, if it wasn't just an excuse to get around outright rejecting me, then you should stick with it."

"An excuse to... No, I'd never do that to you! If that were all there was to my saying no, I'd have told you so. But surely we can still talk, as friends..."

His firm general's face did not waver. "You're still my friend, Nancie, but you can never be _just_ a friend to me. Now excuse me, I have work to do."

He moved on, not looking back to see what her reaction was. He wasn't sure how he felt about Nancie anymore, but he knew that he didn't want to deal with those feelings right now.

He continued to stop when appropriate to give the troops instruction and encouragement. War still was not something he rejoiced in, but this aspect of it came natural to him, and gratified him.

"General Hindel!" The call came from some distance off. Hindel turned to see Adorn swooping towards him. She kicked up a substantial cloud of dust when she came in for a landing. "General Hindel, you have a visitor."

A visitor. Not an enemy; Adorn wouldn't use a euphemism like that. "I'll speak with them as soon as I'm done surveying the troops."

She shook her head. "I think you'll want to see this visitor immediately."

* * *

"Well, there's another battle that I was completely useless in," Taela sighed as they reentered the palace halls.

"It's not your fault that the Dispel magic the guards cast on you still hasn't worn off," Karis assured her. "If you were your usual self, you'd have kicked butt again. This way I got the chance to shine."

"What's important is that we got our weapons back," Rimeon grunted. "And when did you get so bloodthirsty, Karis?"

"'Bloodthirsty'?!" Those angry ridges started to form on Karis's face again, just slightly. "I'm just trying to pull my weight in this team!"

"And you have," Barro said. "That was uncalled for, Rimeon. None of us enjoys fighting Iomites, people who are supposed to be our friends, but if we don't stop General Hindel, then King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair, and all of Cypress, are lost."

"You do know where you're going, don't you, Barro?" Eli asked. His cousin was taking the lead.

"Of course. When I visit an important place like Iom's royal palace, I pay attention to the layout."

"And I don't, is that it?"

"You asked a question, and I answered it." Barro was still racing down the stairs. "If you see a shortcoming in yourself, then -"

Eli caught him at the bottom. "Very well," he said softly. "But it's been pretty obvious that you've been a lot more effective than I on this mission. I ask that you not make it even more obvious. One day I'm going to be king; my reputation is important."

Barro looked at him. He would not have thought Eli capable of a sentiment so focused on his responsibilities as the heir. "You undersell yourself. To even recognize that you've made mistakes, you must know a great deal about being king. The others will blame all our setbacks to date on the unlucky circumstances we've been thrown into."

"So you admit you were wrong to push for Judith being interim ruler in my stead?"

"I said you undersell yourself. I didn't say you've proven yourself. Now come on."

As they raced to make it out of the palace, in the back of Eli's mind it struck him that he was starting to feel a bit more respect for his cousin. He'd assumed Barro's presumptions stemmed from jealousy, even a desire to usurp his position as heir to the throne. Maybe it was relief at having a capable man like Barro along in this nightmare situation, but he was now starting to appreciate that Barro was sincerely uneasy at the thought of Eli ruling Cypress, with what he sincerely thought were good reasons. And he had to admit, the desire to prove Barro wrong was a strong motivation to be a better ruler.

A ruler. If General Hindel's word was true, that's what he already was. He'd believed Hindel in the moment when he said it, but now that he'd had time for reflection, he wasn't sure. Saying that the king and queen were dead was such an obvious way to reduce Cypressian morale. But that didn't mean it wasn't true.

Either way, the loss of his parents didn't feel quite real. He needed to find their bodies. To learn what -

"Hold it right there." Eli looked down the hall, and saw a full squad of Iom soldiers. At the opposite end of the hall stood their leader, a short man who looked to be well over 60 years old. "We've trapped you here, no other way out."

Barro had frozen stiff at the sight of the squad arrayed before them. "Frecor," he said.

"You know him?" Eli said.

"Not well, but let me put it this way: All the guards we've fought so far have been novices. I'd bet that every one of them was either a young soldier who's never seen a battle, or a newly recruited religious fanatic who's barely even had a day of training. Lieutenant Frecor's been around since the wars, and he wasn't sitting on the sidelines for them."

"So, you think we should run...?"

"No point. Like Frecor said, this is the only way out."

"There must be a window or something that we can use," Rimeon put in.

"Sure. But windows are narrow, and while we're trying to climb out one-by-one, Frecor's squad will be all over us. I see only two options: fight or surrender. Your call, Prince Eli."

Eli nodded. This was an easy decision, and Barro undoubtedly knew it, but it was still important that the heir of Cypress be the one to make it. "We fight. It doesn't matter who they are, or how experienced they are. We can beat them, because we are warriors of Cypress."

He raised his sword and led the advance.

* * *

Adorn was right. "Your Majesty," Hindel said, pushing his cloak aside with a clawed hand. "I assume you have sought me out for a reason?"

Queen Anri gave a polite nod. "Yes, but I prefer to make introductions first." She held out a hand to her left, where stood a monk with a strange bush of red hair on the center of his head, a bright-faced dwarf man, and a bizarre creature Hindel had never seen before. "This is Sig, Ruce, and Adam." She then held out a hand to her right, towards a wary-looking centaur knight and an elegant catperson. "And this is Sir Ken and Lady May. Lady May has told me much about you, General Hindel."

Hindel frowned. "I don't know any Lady M- Muh... Blessed Iom," he gasped. He spoke to May now, having forgotten the queen for the moment. "It's you, isn't it? The one who... was there before I was born."

May hesitated. "...Your Majesty, do you want me to answer him?"

"By all means," Anri said. "I appreciate your willingness to adapt to Guardianan etiquette, but this is no time to dwell on formality."

May's eyes were still fixed on Hindel. "Yes, I am the one who bound you to Iom."

He strode towards May without thinking, wanting only to embrace her. "Thank you," he said, his voice choked with all the emotion that came with being Iom's chosen servant. "You can't know how much -"

"Please!" May cringed back, holding her staff before her. "Please, don't come near me!"

Hindel stopped where he was, utterly bewildered. Even May's companions seemed baffled by her behavior.

"Forgive my rudeness," May managed, though her posture remained stock stiff. "It's just that, after the horrors I endured over a year and a half of being bound to Iom's will, the very thought of being touched by his power again terrifies me."

"Horrors?" Hindel echoed. "How can you find horror in being bound to blessed Iom's will?"

"It is different for you. You are an Iomite – one of his people, whom he protects, in a general sense, at least. And you have been bound to him for as long as you can remember. I grew up firmly in the belief that killing any living thing, save in the defense of another living thing, is wrong."

Hindel was nonplussed. "But that's exactly what I believe, too. The only people Iom has told me to kill are those who threaten the lives of others, or who are giving their own life willingly to him."

"I said any living thing. Not just people." She tilted her head. "But we are talking about the past when we should be thinking about the present."

Queen Anri put forth, "Lady May has told me about the threat Iom has called you to face. About the forces from Kerinam, and about your preempting them by invading Emild."

"I see," Hindel said. "And what have you decided to do about it?"

"I am proposing an alliance between Guardiana and Iom."

There was silence.

Adorn came to his aid. "Her Majesty said -"

"I heard," Hindel said. He looked at Queen Anri. "Don't you realize that I'm on my way to conquer Cypress, your oldest ally in this part of the world?"

"I'm hopeful that we can negotiate an alliance with them as well. In the unlikely event that that doesn't work out, I'll ask you to refrain from warring against them, and instead fight Kerinam alongside Guardiana, without any other allies if necessary."

"What if I insist that Cypress is either with us or against us?"

"We will cross that bridge when and if we come to it."

Hindel was surprised. He'd been told how trusting the Guardianans were, but this was almost beyond belief. To accept the wolf's offer to hide in his mouth was one thing, but to actually suggest it... meant there either was a catch, or Anri had been persuaded that being conquered by Iom was better than falling to Kerinam.

"Your Majesty," he said slowly, "...has your homeland already fallen to the Kerinamese?"

Anri's tone and expression did not change. "It has not. But I fear that will change if we do not discourage their incursions soon."

She could be lying. But even if she were, having the deposed queen of Guardiana and some of Guardiana's strongest warriors at Iom's side could be persuasive.

"Very well," Hindel said. "I'll send a messenger to King Amelo so that he can decide whether or not to approve a formal alliance, but in the meantime..." He held a hand out to the queen. As he did so, he willed himself back to human form, the gnarled palm and claws returning to flesh and fingernails. "...you may consider us your friends."

Anri took his hand and shook it.

* * *

The battle was going well. They'd taken down a significant number of Frecor's men, and were beating a clear path to the exit, to escape. They'd taken some hard knocks in the process, and were nearly at the last of their strength – Barro hadn't oversold Frecor's ability – but if they only managed to get out of the palace, that ultimately wouldn't matter.

They just needed to do it quickly. They were already on the verge of crumbling before Frecor and his crew. So when Eli spotted an opening, he shouted to them all, "Go for it! Go!"

They had a small but solid window of safety. Only two Iom soldiers were close enough to catch them, and Gyan and Rimeon had them both stunned. There was an archer in Frecor's remaining force, but at the distance and position she was at, she couldn't take a shot at the Cypressians without risking hitting one of her own comrades.

Eli had sincerely thought she wouldn't take that risk until the instant he felt an arrow pierce his stomach. He cried out and fell to his knees, clutching his gut.

In an instant Farrell was at his side, pulling at his arm. "Come on!"

"Can't move..." he gasped. "Oh gods..."

Farrell didn't waste time arguing, but shoved an arm under Eli's legs and scooped him up. Even so, it was not fast enough. A guard reached them and brought his axe down on Farrell's shoulder, cutting through muscle and tendon.

"Damn it!" Farrell screamed, kicking away the attacker. The shock and pain had made him drop Eli, and by the time he scooped him up again, two more of Frecor's men were upon them.

Then one of them took a kick to the side of the head from Gyan, performing one of his sideways spinning leaps. As the other struck his sword against Gyan's armor, Gyan shouted, "Go! Get Eli out of here!"

"We can't leave you!" Eli protested.

"In three seconds half the palace is going to be on me, and they'll take whoever's with me!" Gyan growled. "Move it and don't worry about me! I've gotten out of tighter spots than this before!"

Eli might have protested further, but the moment Gyan had said "Go!" Farrell was already doing his duty as Royal Protector, running out of the hall with Eli in his arms.

Frecor approached the beastman as he struggled against his men. "You might as well give up now, all honesty," he said. "You've already ensured both your comrades' escape and your own capture, no more doubt."

"Like I told the kid... I've gotten out of tighter spots than – nnnnnnggghhh!" he grunted as a lizardman struck the back of his head with a mace. His armor kept it from cracking his skull, but the force was enough to stagger him.

Frecor's men took advantage. Gyan struggled on, but the mounting pile of guards quickly forced him to the floor and bound his paws behind his back.

"There we go," Frecor remarked. "I doubt you'll tell us where Eli's force might be heading, but it's worth a try, and a prisoner is better than a casualty, in my opinion."

"Okay," Gyan huffed. "Okay. Maybe I'm getting old, or maybe your men are better than I would have thought, but you got me. But listen. I'm a good friend of Deanna and Natasha's. Those names have got to still mean something in this gone-crazy place, haven't they? Take me to Deanna and Natasha."

The reaction wasn't what he'd hoped for, or even what he'd expected. Frecor's eyes stared at him sadly. "You don't know, then. You're lucky enough that I'm a friend of theirs, too, so it happens. But you're too late. General Hindel executed both Deanna and Natasha, right after he took the lot of your prisoner."

Gyan gawked at him for a few moments. He wanted to believe that Frecor was lying, but what purpose would that serve? If he didn't want Gyan to see Deanna and Natasha, all he had to do was throw him back in his cell and forget about it.

"That's... that's impossible," he mumbled. "Hindel couldn't... He was awfully strange when we met him, mentally _and_ physically, but he wouldn't kill his own mother and father. Whatever deal he's got going on with Iom, his parents love him. I'm sure they would've tried to stop him if they knew what he was doing, but they love him. How could he... It's impossible."

"Love," Frecor sighed, "...even love between parent and child... is worthless if it stands against Iom's will. General Hindel is the Cloud of Iom, and he recognized that his parents had stood against the will of our god, and were therefore a threat to our prosperity and his, so long as they lived. A hard decision for any son to make... but he did it, no regrets."

"I don't believe it."

"I don't like it, either. Oh, at the beginning I felt that Hindel was a sincere, devout, and compassionate young man, not too different from his father where it really counts. But he'd gone too far even before this, my way of thinking. Not much I can do about it, though, just keep doing my duty. Of course, if Deanna and Natasha were still alive, I'd -"

"Did you see it? Did you see them die?"

Frecor looked at his captive in silence for a moment. "...Guess you're going to need proof, any way I put it. Okay, troops, bring him along. I'll lead the way."

They marched Gyan out of the palace. The cool night air, incongruously enough, came as a pleasant relief. They proceeded around the building, and before too long he could see that they were headed for a cemetery.

"Going to show me a couple headstones, huh?" Gyan remarked with relief. "Look, any stone mason can put a couple names into a headstone. There just might be a good reason for someone to want to... fake... Oh, no."

"See 'em now, I take it," Frecor said. "Your night vision is better than mine, full certain. So, now you know. Hindel killed them, but he didn't have the time to bury them before he left for Cypress."

The night air now felt chill on Gyan's spine. He looked, in abject horror, at the strange glass case which cast no shadows save those which fell from the two cold bodies within.


	35. Chapter 35: see inside for title

\- Chapter 35: Brother Against Brother Against Sister Against Brother -

"I don't believe it," Josh said. "Hindel wouldn't – not that! Not that!" All of them were silent at his protest. It made Josh at once embarrassed and angry. "Well, he wouldn't!"

Carla put a hand on his shoulder. "We know that, Josh. But it isn't really Hindel we're dealing with, is it?"

"No... but..." He fought back the urge to cry. Carla wasn't crying. Dusty wasn't crying. Even Amy wasn't crying. And Dawn, Amber, Jacey, and Malcolm had been left in the other room so they wouldn't be upset by the news of their parents' deaths. "They just can't be dead. Mom and Dad can't be dead!"

"You're both wrong," Dusty said. "It is Hindel, and he did kill our parents. Or are you calling Uncle Dust a liar?"

"Once again, I am not your uncle. And in point of fact, I agree with Joshua." Dust folded his arms thoughtfully, but as always his stark tone of voice and the black fabric he wore concealed any emotion he might be feeling. "The bodies of your parents might seem like an indisputable indication, but there is something odd about the situation. Hindel would not want to kill his parents of himself, and if Iom made him do it, why then would he not perform the sacrifice in public?"

"To avoid the political backlash," Dusty said crisply. "I realize you're trying to soften the blow for Josh and Amy, but it's better that we all face the truth."

"Ha ha ha, ha ha. Have you not considered that it might not be Joshua and Amy's feelings that I am worried about? My master's last wish was that Deanna would be kept safe. If your parents are dead, that means I have failed my master in the worst way possible. It means I allowed your mother, the first person to truly care for me, to meet a most horrible death. And it means that you children, who I have come to see as much more precious than your being my master's heirs alone makes you, are now orphans. After you relied on me... to..."

As they all stared at him, spellbound by this utterly uncharacteristic display of emotion, Dust broke off and retreated out the window, into the darkness outside.

Carla went to the door. "Wait here," she said. "I'll bring him back."

"We should all go," Amy said.

"No. Dust needs his space. I'm not even sure it's a good idea for me to go after him, but I know him better than any of us, and I have to try." She closed the door behind her.

There was a moment of solemn silence among the three of them after she left. Then Dusty folded his arms and said, "Okay. Uncle Dust doesn't have it together right now, but there's no more time to waste if we want to catch Hindel. When Dust recovers, let him know I'm on my way to Cypress."

Dusty's hand was on the door when Amy spat, "What in a demon's lair is wrong with you?! Mom and Dad are dead, and you're abandoning your little brothers and sisters just so you can play hero?"

"I know Mom and Dad are dead. I know the little ones are in danger. That's why I'm trying to put a stop to this!" He spun towards Amy, revealing tears in his eyes. "Don't you get it? Hindel won't stop until he's gotten us all. Unless someone kills him first, it's only a matter of time. I'm not abandoning you, Amy – any of you. I'm saving you. And you know what? I don't even care whether or not you appreciate what I'm doing. If we're all alive when this is over, that'll be thanks enough for me."

Dusty went out the door. After a moment's hesitation, Josh bolted after him. He heard Amy holler, "Great! Let's all split up! Brilliant idea!"

He knew she had a point, but Dusty was right. Until Hindel was stopped, all their lives were in danger. And after all, he was the disobedient one of the family.

"Hey, Dusty! Wait up!"

"Stay with the others, Josh. I'm going to kill Hindel and I don't want you getting in the way."

"I want to help you, numb nuts!"

"I don't need your help."

"Oh, yeah?" In truth, he was having a hard time thinking of a way in which an ordinary teenage boy could be of help to a dedicated hero. But he had to come along; he couldn't just let his two favorite siblings kill each other. "Well then, how are you going to catch up with Hindel? He's at least a day ahead of us. That emur you've got isn't going to make up that distance before he gets to Cypress."

That stopped him. "Well, it's not like either of us can just go out and buy a new ride. We're wanted, remember?"

Josh grinned. "Yeeeeaaaahhhh, buying isn't what I had in mind."

* * *

"This is wrong," Dusty said.

"You keep _saying_ that, but you know it's the only way we can stop Hindel." Joshua sprang the latch to the stable. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here. Anyway, we'll bring 'em back when we're done."

"That's a poor excuse. The owner may need them while we're gone, and given where we're going, you know we can't guarantee we'll be able to bring them back at all. And just because we need to do this to stop Hindel doesn't make it right. It just makes it the lesser of two evils."

"Oh man. Let me see if I have this straight." He started putting a saddle on one of the horses. "We have only two possible choices, and in your book, _both_ of them are evil? That's mean that life forces us to be evil, and that doesn't even make _sense_. Whatever happens, there has to be a good choice."

"Yes, there does." Dusty swung up on one of the horses, omitting the saddle. "And if Mom or Dad were here, they'd find it."

"But because we can't think of it, that makes us evil? Hey, you know you're gonna be really sore after a few hours of riding bareback."

"I'll live. Unlike you, I don't steal anything I don't really need."

Josh had to admit, he didn't have a good comeback for that. But he did not take the saddle off as they rode away from the stable.

"Wait for me!"

"Aw, no," Dusty groaned, turning his horse around. "Jacey, what are you doing here?"

"Obviously she followed us here, meathead," Josh said. "Go back to Carla and Ryan, Jacey."

"Nuh uh. I'm coming with you, or I'm gonna tell Mom and Dad how you guys were stealing horses!"

"You stupid brat! Mom and Dad are -"

"Josh," Dusty interrupted. His tone was gentle, but firm and unyielding. "In principle, I agree with you. This mission is much too dangerous for a nine-year-old. But she's here now, and finding her way back to Carla and Ryan all by herself would be just as dangerous, if not more so. If she comes with us, at least we can do something to protect her. And besides," - he flashed Josh a significant look - "...we really don't want Mom and Dad to know we were stealing horses, do we?"

"...No," he agreed. _Wow. As much of an asshole as he's been the past week, Dusty really is one cool guy after all._ "Okay, Jacey. Since you're too little and dumb to know how to ride, you can hop on with Dusty."

"I don't think so. Jacey needs a saddle, and you've got the only one."

Josh scowled. "That's a pretty low way of getting back at me for stealing."

"Stealing is a pretty low way of getting what you want, so I think it's appropriate."

"Help me up!" Jacey demanded, holding her arms out to Josh. He compliantly took hold and hoisted her up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, grasping her left wrist with her right hand.

He didn't fancy Jacey as a riding companion, especially not with her attitude since Hindel had left, but at least they were set to go.

* * *

The Iom and Guardiana armies marched together, their supplies pulled along behind them in wagons. Though General Hindel preferred to remain on foot with his comrades, Queen Anri was too old to make such a journey on her own two legs, and so was riding a horse. Hindel suspected, though, that even without her mount she would seem to tower above those around her with her aloof manner. It was not that she was pompous or prideful; it was as if nothing touched her, or could touch her.

"Iom has told me a few things about you, Your Majesty," Hindel said. "He showed me how Woldol cast a spell on you which put you to sleep."

"Showed you?" she queried, with little more than polite interest.

"Iom can let me see the pasts of anyone who is now part of him, just as if it had happened to me." He allowed a pause, but Anri did not press him further. "What was it like? Being under that spell, sleeping like that for days and days?"

Anri idly glanced around. "Like? It wasn't any different from a normal sleep, except that I had a somewhat strange dream."

"Strange how?"

"Only that it didn't feel like a dream. I knew that I had to be dreaming, because I remembered what the real world was like, and things happened in the dream that couldn't happen in the real world, but people and objects had undeniable substance. I could feel the hardness of my throne beneath me, and smell the aroma of a vegetable stew."

Hindel hesitated, but another question bore on him. "Was it... a bad dream?"

"No. It..."

As Queen Anri paused, Hindel heard something out of place. The beating of hooves, faster than anyone in his party would be riding. He turned to look behind him, and stiffened.

"Your Majesty," he said, "Go ahead, to the front of the party. Those two people riding behind us are after me, and I don't think you want to see what happens when we meet."

Anri smiled at him. "General Hindel, I've witnessed my fair share of war, and more than my fair share of sorrows and monstrosities. You can't expect me to leave just because -"

"Please, Your Majesty." Dusty and Joshua were closing in. "This is my private affair. Just do this one favor for me."

"Very well. Because you are my ally." Saying nothing more than that, she rode on ahead.

Hindel stopped walking, shifted fully to Iom form, and turned around to face his brothers. He didn't have to wait long for them to arrive. They were riding at breakneck pace, so fast that Josh was clinging on for dear life.

"You shouldn't have come here," he called to them.

But they didn't seem to hear, because Dusty shouted, "This is the price for serving Iom, brother!" and swung his sword at Hindel's head, while Josh cried "No!" at Dusty.

Josh should have saved his breath. The sword only banged off the side of Hindel's head, leaving not even a scratch.

"Can we talk now?" Hindel offered, reverting his head to human form. "You should have known that nothing can hurt a man who wields the power of Iom."

"Not even the power of Iom can stand up to the power of Light!" Dusty tried an overhead swing this time, at his brother's now flesh-and-blood head.

Hindel ducked underneath Dusty's horse, lifted it up into the air, and easily flung Dusty off its back; the idiot wasn't even wearing a saddle. Dusty rolled with the landing as best he could, but lost his grip on his sword, which Hindel picked off of the ground where it fell.

"You don't get it," Hindel said, struggling to contain his aggravation at his brother's pigheadedness. "The Light is on Iom's side. It's not going to help you kill me. Now take Joshua and get out of here, or I'll have to kill you both."

"Stop it! Stop fighting!" Hindel started at the sound of that voice. He'd been too distracted by his brother's trying to kill him to realize until that moment that little Jacinda was seated behind Joshua on his horse. "Hindel, why are you doing this?" she implored. "Why do you hate us?"

"I don't hate you, Jacinda," he said. "I love you – all of you. I love you in a way that obviously none of you understand, or you wouldn't have treated me the way you always did. It's just that I love Iom even more."

"That's nonsense!" Joshua cried. "You don't love us at all – you're not even really Hindel! You've been taken over by Iom!"

Hindel frowned, his brow furrowed. "What, because of this?" he said, holding up a clawed hand.

"I know you're still in there, Hindel! Somewhere inside you there's someone who would never do what you did to Mom and Dad, and would never do what you're doing to us! There's got to be! You've got to fight to take control of yourself again!"

"Josh..." he sighed with exasperation. "Look at me. Not at this armor given to me by Iom, or my powers, or even at these wings, but at _me_. At me. Then ask yourself this question, and answer honestly: Am I some Iom-possessed puppet? Or am I the same Hindel you've known all your life?"

There was near silence, as Josh just gawked at him. Slowly, like a castle of sand being taken by the tide, the truth came crashing down on his little brother's face.

"No... that can't... That's impossible!" Josh almost screamed. "You couldn't do this to us! You couldn't!"

"I had to, Josh. Mom and Dad would have tried to stop me, just like Dusty is trying to stop me, and then Iom's plan would be ruined."

"Damn it, what do you want?!" He dismounted. Tears were running down his face. "It's my fault that you don't love us as much as Iom, isn't it? If you get your payback for all the times I made fun of you and Iom, will that make you happy? Then will you stop hunting little Jacey and Malcolm like they're criminals?! Then do it! Do it n-"

"Josh, no!" Dusty shouted, and dove forward to shove him out of the way of Hindel's lethal spell.

Except that Hindel didn't cast any spell, lethal or otherwise. He just gave another sigh of exasperation at his siblings as they tumbled in the dirt. "I'm not doing this because of you, Josh. I told you, I love you. I wish I could have you here, by my side. You too, Dusty. But Iom's plan is more important than all of us put together. As for hunting you down, I've already stopped that. I promised Mom and Dad that I wouldn't kill any of you with the possible exception of Dusty. And now that I've taken Dusty's measure, Iom agrees with me that he's not enough of a threat that I need to kill him. You can all go back home now and wait for Iom's glorious plan to be fulfilled, just like every other citizen of Iom. You have nothing more to be afraid of."

"If we go home," Jacey spoke up, her voice trembling, "...then you come with us. You let Mom and Dad free, and you all come back with us."

Her words caught Hindel off guard. "I already left, Jacinda, for good. Besides, what would _you_ want me back for? Josh might miss teasing me, talking with me, and having someone to share a bunk with, and Dusty might secretly enjoy preaching at me about the evil of Iom and the path of the Light, but the rest of you always just ignored me. You've got seven other siblings to have fun with."

"But you're my favorite!" she burst out. "You're the only one who really respected me, ever! I want you back home with us! And I want Mommy and Daddy!"

"Hindel!" At the sound of Alric calling, Hindel turned around, and saw the rest of the Shining Force running up to him. Except for Adorn, who was undoubtedly still scouting. "What's going on here, lad?"

Hindel held out a hand in the vague direction of Dusty, Josh, and Jacinda. "These are some of my brothers and sisters. They must have escaped from prison."

"Ahhh," Redgar said, drawing his spear and pointing it at the still prostrate Hindel. "Your ssiblingsss. We fight, then?"

"No. Even Dusty must realize that he's beaten now, and the other two are just children. We have to get to Cypress."

He turned to go, but Josh called after him, "What's this _great_ plan of Iom's that you're ranting about, anyway? What is it that's worth doing this to the people who you say you love?"

Hindel hesitated. "...There's no time to explain it all right now, and it wouldn't make a difference to you anyway, Josh. It'd make a difference to Dusty, but he wouldn't believe me, and Jacinda wouldn't understand it. If you really want to know, meet me in Castle Cypress – _without_ your weapons, Dusty. You can't kill me, but you'll understand if it makes me angry when you try."

As he walked away from them, he heard Jacinda sniffling, as if she was hurt by his leaving. If he were still the same boy he was when he'd lived with his family, that might have produced a painful tugging at his heart. But wearing Iom's form, feeling the empowering wisdom of his faith, he felt nothing but the knowledge that even if his brothers and sisters did care about him, even if they weren't just upset over the fate of their parents, it amounted to no more than a drop of water in an ocean compared to the emotions of Iom, and mattered as but a pebble thrown against a stone wall to the destiny his god had prepared for him.


	36. Chapter 36: Judith's Choice

\- Chapter 36: Judith's Choice -

Judith liked to think of herself as a good diplomat. Regional etiquette, customs, and social norms were fascinating to her. She adapted to those of the country she was dealing with as easily as a priest changes his robes according to the ceremony he is performing.

But she now had to admit, she'd never faced a true diplomatic challenge before. And she'd certainly never dreamt that she'd one day have to negotiate, on behalf of all of Cypress, from a position of weakness. She prayed to the Light that Sharland's king was in a benevolent mood, even as she knew that for King Saul, there was no such thing as a benevolent mood.

But there was no sense in postponing the inevitable. "Tell Sharland's emissary I will see him now," she said to an attendant. He went to do as she said, and she sat back in her throne to wait.

A few minutes later, a red-haired woman entered the audience chamber. "Thank you for seeing me, Your Highness. My name is Valeria."

Judith nodded. "Before we proceed, I want to establish one thing. Have you been authorized to sign an alliance between Sharland and Cypress?"

"Cypress is in straits that desperate, then?"

Judith silently cursed her carelessness. By inquiring about the proposed alliance, she had shown an increased interest in it – and in doing so, exposed Cypress's wound. A true diplomat would not have made such a mistake. Her parents would be ashamed.

But she could not let one major error lead her to make further ones. "Iom has invaded our borders. We have defeated them before, but would greatly appreciate Sharland's assistance so that we can bring this war to a swift conclusion, with as little bloodshed as possible."

Valeria tilted her head. "Cypress _has_ defeated Iom before, but Iom has also defeated Cypress before, and none of the wars between them happened within your lifetime. Moreover, Cypress's last victory against Iom was masterminded by your father as king and your mother as queen, and according to our intelligence, they are both now missing."

"Your intelligence is mistaken," Judith said, with as much calm and bemusement as she could feign.

"No offense, Your Highness, but if there were even the slightest chance of that, I wouldn't have said anything. Our intelligence also tells us that both Prince Barro and Prince Eli, the heir to the throne, have gone to Iom on a diplomatic mission. And since Iom is now invading Cypress, I take it that they aren't coming back any time soon. We have also found out that Emild was taken over in the blinking of an eye by Iom's wonder boy general. Cypress desperately needs help, Your Highness." Judith could think of nothing to say. "Fortunately, to get back to your question, I have been authorized to approve an alliance with both Sharland and Kerinam, the country I represent. We arrived in this part of the world just recently, but we've been collaborating very effectively with Sharland and we hope to start up relations with Cypress as well."

"That is a very... sudden introduction." _Could what she's saying be true? Am I... making first contact with a previously unknown nation?_

"Isn't it?" Valeria flashed a cheeky grin. "Seriously, we wanted to introduce ourselves more naturally, but when General Hindel of Iom suddenly popped up and started conquering every nation in sight, our hand was forced. We knew stopping him was the only way of preserving peace."

"So..." _How would father approach this? I know next to nothing about the nation I'm negotiating with. But I can't trust any answers she gives me, and with the Iom army practically at our doorstep, I don't have time to find answers myself. My only choice is to go in blind. And be prepared for the worst._ "...I assume there are terms of some sort for this proposed alliance?"

"Minimal ones. Nothing beyond what you'd expect." She held out a sheaf of papers. "Obviously you're going to read through these yourself, but basically, Sharland wants a generous cut of Iom's territory when annexation time comes, and Kerinam wants a long-term alliance. Something to ensure an ongoing exchange of ideas between our countries, and Cypress's help if we find ourselves in the same sort of trouble you're in right now."

"Annexation? You mean King Saul intends to destroy Iom?"

"'Destroy'... now that really is quite melodramatic. But yes, King Saul believes, and we of Kerinam agree, that the world will be better off with Iom under the guiding hands of Cypress and Sharland. Iom has proven to be too unstable, chiefly due to their perverse national religion. Their continued sovereignty is a constant threat to world peace."

Judith was silent a moment, but in thought, not hesitation. "But you yourself pointed out that this is the first time Iom has been at war during my lifetime."

Valeria looked at her thoughtfully. "...You are not like your father. Your father would be happy for the opportunity to expand Cypress's territory and power in a war of self-defense."

"I like to think that Cypress and the other nations of the world can all thrive together." It was a bold statement, but if there was one thing Judith shared with her father, it was that she was not one to cower. And as soon as she said it, she felt confident that, while Valeria held all the cards in this negotiation, she would not withdraw the offer of alliance so easily.

"As a rule, I agree. But Iom's religion means they will always be, at best, a simmering threat. More to the point, I can tell you now that neither Sharland nor Kerinam will accept a treaty that ends this war with Iom retaining free rein."

Judith had no doubt of that, and not just because Valeria struck her as an honest person. The fact was, religion had played a negligible role in most of Iom's wars, which were most often motivated by the usuals: blood feuds, a desire to expand territory, and the like. Iom was not even the aggressor in some of these wars. But Warderer's bid for royal sacrifices, and the violent coup which had killed her aunt and grandparents, had given the Iom religion a bad global reputation. General Hindel's actions had only made that worse. It was easy to see how annexing Iom would make a lot of people feel safer.

But Judith was not convinced that the people of Iom as a whole were a threat, regardless of exceptions like King Warderer and General Hindel. More importantly, Valeria's repeated reference to the threat of Iom's religion made her suspect that the occupation of Iom was not meant to be a wholly benevolent one. There would be religious oppression. Judith was not particularly religious herself, and certainly did not subscribe to Iom's faith, but she found no justification for taking away people's right to worship.

"May I have those papers with the terms of the alliance?" Judith said aloud. "And some time to think it over?"

Valeria frowned as she handed them over. "Naturally, but if I were you I would have my answer ready within 24 hours, preferably much less. Iom is practically knocking on your door."

The doors to the throne room boomed open, making Judith start. "I prefer not to knock," said the man at the head of the little entourage that strode into the room. "Knocking implies that I need permission to enter."

Judith stood up and called, "Guards!"

"They won't be here for a few minutes yet, Your Highness. Besides, we can accomplish a lot more through negotiation than through fighting."

She studied the intruder. It was rather remarkable how that last statement of his perfectly mirrored her own sentiments. And while she of course couldn't judge his sincerity, it was a matter of fact that he and his troops were not attacking either her or Valeria. Unnerving as it was to have her throne room broken into without warning, there was no immediate physical danger, and she could not allow the intruders to see her unease.

She sat back down. "It would help if I knew who I was negotiating _with_."

"I am General Hindel, the Cloud of Iom." He gestured to the centaur at his left. "This is General Leduc, here representing Emild." He next gestured to his right. "And this is Queen Anri, who of course represents Guardiana. I've gathered that this woman with you is representing Kerinam."

"And Sharland," Valeria said pointedly.

"...and Sharland? I didn't realize Kerinam had already sunk their claws into them that deeply." He turned to address Judith alone. "But I still think we can offer you much more agreeable terms than they can."

"Queen Anri. General Leduc," Judith said. She knew these two fairly well, had talked with them at diplomatic affairs. "Is this true? Have Guardiana and Emild taken General Hindel's side?"

"It's an alliance of necessity, Your Highness," Anri said. "While I do not wholly agree with General Hindel's approach, he is not my enemy. Kerinam is. They sent assassins to try to kill me so that they could set up a puppet ruler in my place."

"As for me, I do not agree with General Hindel's approach to any extent," Leduc offered, casting a rueful glance at Hindel. "However, Emild is now a vassal of Iom, and King Kay has ordered me to comply with their orders."

"If I may cut in," Valeria said, with sincere politeness, "...what makes you think your assassins were sent by Kerinam, Queen Anri?"

"Adam here identified them as official Kerinamese agents." Anri returned Valeria's appeal with a stare cold enough to send a chill down Judith's back. "I can trust Adam at least as much as any other person in the world. Maybe you weren't told about the orders to kill me, but that Kerinam plotted my assassination is beyond any doubt." She turned to Judith. "Your Highness, you must believe us. Kerinam is trying to turn us all against each other so that they can take over."

"What about my brother?" Judith demanded. "And my parents, and my cousin Barro? I suppose we don't have actual proof that Iom is responsible for my parents' disappearance, but Barro and my brother went on a diplomatic mission to Iom and never came back. Do you mean to deny -"

"No," Hindel interrupted. "That's the last thing I would do. Let me make this clear to you, Judith. Queen Anri and I share the goal of negotiating an alliance with you to stop Kerinam, but not her preference to negotiate strictly through logic. What Kerinam intends to do to this world would cause incalculable harm, so I intend to prevent it any way I can. If you won't listen to reason, I'm fully prepared to point out how little chance Cypress would stand against Iom's power.

"Yes, I captured your brother and your cousin. I have your parents too, though in their case I actually liberated them from Kerinam kidnappers." He folded his arms. "That leaves you all alone, and as the Cloud of Iom I have already bested Cypress at every turn. So if -"

"Please, Hindel," Anri said. "Let's try it my way. Your Highness, it really is our intention to be friends."

"You expect me to trust Hindel, after what he's done?"

"You must. He's the only one who's managed to stay a step ahead of Kerinam's plans. My court was infiltrated by assassins before I had any idea what was going on. King Kay had all but lost control of Emild until Hindel invaded. Sharland has gone over to Kerinam's side, and given their doings in Emild, Iom, and Guardiana I strongly suspect that King Saul didn't sign with them of his own free will. And from the look of things, if we hadn't come along you'd have allied yourself with Kerinam without having the least suspicion of their true nature. Whether you approve of Hindel or no, we all must stand with him to survive." She turned to Hindel. "Tell her what you told me. Tell her what is at stake here."

Hindel hesitated a moment. Unless Judith were misreading things, he was not taking any sort of orders from his ally, and so had to consider whether or not her suggestion made sense.

He apparently decided in the affirmative, because his face took on an extra shadow of gravity, and he said, "Princess Judith, the people of Kerinam are non-believers. They sincerely think that none of the gods exist, and that public worship should be outlawed. And they intend to foist that belief system on this entire continent. When they have their way, there will be no one serving the gods."

"I don't see anything particularly awful about that," she replied.

Hindel gave a heavy sigh of restrained anger. "Then either you are without morals, or you haven't thought things through. We are talking about the gods, the beings to whom we owe everything we have. The very ground on which we stand, the air we breathe, was provided for us by them. They are beings as far above us as we are above a mule. A mule would never deny a benevolent human a ride on his back, so of what value are we as mortal beings if we deny the gods our own crude service?"

Judith said nothing.

"And even if we were to turn our back on duty, piety, and our rightful place in the universe," Hindel continued, "...turning away from the gods would only mean our own destruction. This has never been revealed to us before now, because before now there was no need for us to know, but the gods are all reliant upon human service in one form or another in order to remain in this world. Iom needs sacrifice for the power to reach out, even briefly, from the hell that is his home for the time being. Mitula needs to have peace and serenity directed towards her, the sort of peace and serenity experienced only when her followers meditate in prayer to her. Volcanon needs his followers to feel righteous anger in his name. And so on, for all of the gods. Without these devotions, the gods will not only disappear from this world, but lose the ability to act in it. Given enough time, people will forget they ever existed."

As Hindel was speaking, Judith saw a flash of feathers at the window, then Claude's head looking in. He looked at her and lay a hand over his beak.

She understood. By now her guards, or what remained of them after Hindel came through, had no doubt arrived at the door of the throne room, and sent Claude to scout out the situation. They would charge in at a signal from him, but Hindel and his troops were close enough to kill Judith before they could do anything to stop them. They would have to bide their time until the moment came... or better yet, until she found a way to resolve this with minimal violence.

"...I apologize," Judith said. _Hard as it may be, I have to forget Eli and Barro for the moment. Whichever side I take, Cypress's position is precarious. This is the time to be diplomatic._ "I can see that you are a person of sincere piety, and I insulted that piety, though I did not mean to. But you're talking of gods like Iom when we of Cypress worship only the Light. You can't expect me to believe that the Light will just go away if we stop thinking about it."

"Why not? I don't even need Iom to tell me something that obvious. The Light isn't here in this world the way the other gods are; it just gives power to people who act morally. If you stop thinking about the Light, then you stop thinking about morality. If you stop thinking about morality, then you stop acting morally. And if no one is acting morally, then how can you say the Light is still here in any meaningful sense?

"Besides, the Light can't do anything in the way of miracles without the other gods. I don't really understand what the Light is – Iom explained it to me, but the concept is a little beyond mortal minds – but it doesn't will its power into our world, the way the other gods do. It's like... like our world is a shed, and the Light is the sun. The other gods open the front door to come in, and the sunlight just streams in. If the other gods stop coming, then the door stops opening, and the sunlight doesn't come in anymore."

"But..." Judith wasn't sure what to think. Hindel's actions so far made her disinclined to believe anything he said, but she wasn't lying when she said she thought his piety was sincere. And he was saying this all with such casual honesty, as if the idea that someone might suspect him of lying had never even entered his head. "But the Light is the only source of good in this world."

"If that's true – and even Iom doesn't know the answer to that for sure – it's pretty obvious what will happen if people give up their faith, isn't it?"

"Except that it's all nonsense," Valeria snapped. "Do you really expect her to believe that we're deliberately setting in motion events that would turn this world into a pit of evil? Why would we do that?"

"If you'd asked me that just a few weeks ago, I wouldn't have known how to answer. But now I'm beginning to understand: You got so caught up in your beliefs, you wouldn't allow yourself to think about the consequences, even for a second."

"What do you mean, our beliefs? _You_ have beliefs. We have facts. There are no gods, and you can't change that just by believing in them!" Her face was red with anger. "Enough of this. Enough lies. Enough myths. Enough fantasies." Valeria snapped a peculiar stick with a curved end out of her pocket and pointed it at Hindel. "Do you know what this is?"

"Does it matter?" Hindel shrugged.

"Of course you don't. You Iomites are barbaric fools, obsessed with your outdated superstitions to the point where you don't even grasp for new knowledge. That's wasteful enough on its own, but now you're trying to drag Guardiana, and the rest of the world, down with you into the pit of ignorance and self-destruction. You kill your own people in an attempt to gain a power that doesn't even exist. But it stops now. I'm going to put an end to Iom's mad leadership, and in the same stroke prove to Princess Judith and Queen Anri that your god is a myth." She fingered a tiny lever on the stick, and it produced a sharp click. "You say Iom protects you? Then let him protect you from this."

A loud bang rang through the chamber, making nearly all of those present cover their ears or crouch down in alarm. Hindel staggered backward.

Then there was a light "tak" sound, as a small metal pellet fell to the floor at Hindel's feet. Valeria stared at him, stupefied, as he bent down and picked up the pellet. "I'm not sure I understand," he said. "Was this supposed to kill me?"

Valeria had no words.

Hindel shrugged, and crushed the pellet in his clawed fist. "I think you've just proven, to yourself at least, that Iom _does_ protect me."

"It does," Judith said. "It also proves your story, to some extent at least, and that is enough to decide me." She stood up and approached Queen Anri. "Guardiana is Cypress's ally, and Cypress always stands with her allies. And if Kerinam intends to rid this world of the Light, that is all the more reason to stand against them."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Anri said. "Thank you trusting us."

Judith nodded, but to herself she thought, _Trust itself is not enough. Trust can always be betrayed. Father taught me that. But Hindel just laughed off whatever bizarre attack it was that Valeria threw at him, __a__nd he's essentially seized control of Castle Cypress with minimal effort. __Whether or not he's telling the truth, __I have to play along with him, at least long enough to find out how to defeat him._

"Guards!" she called. At that, six Cypress soldiers poured into the room, Lieutenant Dawn at their head. "Please escort Sharland's representative from the castle. I'm sorry, Valeria, but your use of violence in this chamber cannot be tolerated, and if Kerinam wants to push their ideas upon other nations, they'll find this continent united against them."

Before Valeria could reply, two of the Cypress soldiers discarded their hoods, one of them announcing, "I don't think so. If no one else is going to stand up to my big brother, I will."

Hindel sighed. "Dusty, did you not hear what I just told Princess Judith?"

"We heard. That's why Josh and I infiltrated Cypress's ranks, instead of coming right to Her Highness: We wanted to hear what you had to say. But it's all lies. Whatever happens, the Light could never be on the same side as Iom. I won't say that Kerinam isn't a threat, but you and Iom are the bigger threat."

"Besides," Josh said, his breath uncharacteristically heavy, "...if you were really fighting against evil, you wouldn't have murdered our parents!"

"That's enough," Judith said. "Guards, escort these two intruders out along with lady Valeria."

"Hold on a second." Lieutenant Dawn held up a hand to her men. "I think I see a familial resemblance here, and one of them is named Hindel... Your parents are Deanna and Natasha, aren't they?"

Dusty and Josh nodded, but Judith said, "I gave you an order, lieutenant."

"I know, Your Highness, but I can't follow it. The man you're about to ally with murdered his own parents and abducted the crown prince of Cypress, and these youths you're throwing out only want to avenge their mother and father. I understand the position you're in, but such an injustice can never be allowed in the halls of Castle Cypress."

"We're with ya, Dawn!" another of the guards, a dwarf wearing a pot for a helmet, offered.

Queen Anri turned to Hindel. "Is this true? Did you kill your parents?"

"It's too difficult to explain right now," Hindel answered her with a grimace. "For now I'll just say that this is something of a misunderstanding. Can you trust me far enough as that, at least?"

"...I can. You've been true to your word so far; you got us to the throne room without killing anyone. But they have no reason to give you that same trust. What do we do?"

"Defeat them, without any casualties if possible. Our victory will convince Princess Judith even further that she's joining the right side."

Most of those on both sides were reluctant to join in actual conflict, but Dusty was the opposite. "Your reign of terror ends now, brother!" he vowed, leaping forward to strike his sword against Hindel's murky carapace.

Claude swooped into the room to join his comrades, and Dawn led them in a charge. They held no delusions about their chances: against Dusty and the five Cypress soldiers were Hindel and his Shining Force, General Leduc and his Emild squad, Queen Anri, and a handful of Guardiana's elite, among them a strange creature with smooth skin the color of a tarnished axe. But Cypressians were not given to backing down against any foe. Strength and courage was their heritage.

Jaha strode forward, shielding his comrades as best as he could from Redgar's spear, Leduc's lance, May's spells, and Sig's iron-gloved knuckles. Dawn leapt into the midst of her foes like a demon let loose, striking frantically yet for the most part accurately with lance and hoof.

Judith looked upon it all and felt the harsh sting of failure. She had liked to think of herself as a good diplomat. There were few things she wanted more than cordial relations with all nations, or at least with Cypress's allies. Standing beside her, Valeria murmured, "How did it all go so wrong...?", echoing her own thoughts.

She was beginning to entertain the thought of retreat (it would do Cypress no good for her to be killed by a carelessly flung weapon) when she heard a voice from just outside the throne room cry out "Spark!"

A storm of lightning bolts struck at several of Hindel's Shining Force. Looking to the source, she saw seven newcomers, among them two faces she'd feared she would never see again.

Hindel, meanwhile, was still enduring Dusty's attacks. Again and again his brother slashed at his chitinous body, making it impossible for him to strike back without risking his head being cut off. He could eliminate that risk by allowing the transformation to spread over his head, but he was angry enough at Dusty as it was; he was afraid of what he might do if he allowed the change to consume his mind.

"Stop it, Dusty," he yelled. "Just stop it! Damn it, I was going to resolve this whole thing peacefully before you showed up! Now you're making me wish I'd killed you the last time we fought, and what in Iom's name do you think you can accomplish here anyway?!" He gave in at last, allowing the transformation to spread over his head. He had to put an end to this nonsense, whatever the cost. "I've shown you already, nothing can harm one who wields the power of Iom!"

He was about to strike Dusty down when he felt a sudden sharp pain in his chest. Looking down, he saw something that made no sense: A glowing blade piercing through his back and out his front.

"Nothing?" Prince Eli said over his shoulder. "Not even the Sword of Hajya?"


	37. Chapter 37: Reason for Peace

\- Chapter 37: Reason for Peace -

Hindel stared down at the sword in his chest with disbelief and an odd sense of déjà vu. Just as it had seemed absurd and unfair for him to be killed by Brehen before he could even begin his glorious destiny, it seemed absurd and unfair for him to die now, right when he was on the verge of uniting the world under Iom. Absurd, unfair, and impossible. He wielded the power of Iom; he should have been impervious to the efforts of a callow, spoiled prince like Eli.

But Iom was even now telling Hindel all about the Sword of Hajya. Iom had not said anything when Eli had brandished the sword in their previous encounter, in the palace of Iom, because Hindel might then have been driven by fear of the weapon. He might well have opted to try to kill all the members of the Cypress royal family to ensure no one could use the sword against him, and while ordinarily that would have pleased Iom, in this case he needed Cypress, Guardiana, and Emild as allies against Kerinam.

Now, though, Iom told him the weapon's entire history, and he was hit with the cruel irony that a sword forged with the power of the Light was now playing a key role in eradicating the Light itself from the world. Foremost in his mind, however, was a question: _Why, Lord Iom? Why tell me all this now, when it's too late for me to change anything?_

His god did not answer. Not directly, at any rate. But as he coughed blood out of the murky maw that was presently his mouth, Dusty cried, "Hindel!" and fell to his knees beside him.

Hindel smiled at his brother. "Isn't this... what you were trying to accomplish?" But he had already figured out the answer. Dusty hadn't been trying to slay his Iom-protected body; he was dumb, but not dumb enough to try the same thing over and over in the hope of different results. Most likely, he had been hoping that if he distracted Hindel long enough for the rest of the Shining Force to be defeated, that would be enough to ruin Iom's plans.

Dusty didn't have the time to answer, anyway. "Don't die on me," Eli said in Hindel's ear. Grasping Hindel's shoulder for leverage, Eli pulled the Sword of Hajya free from his torso. "Not just yet." He gripped Hindel by the hair and held the sword to his throat. "Not until you tell me where my parents are."

"They're... with the... main Iom force," Hindel hissed out through the blood in his throat. "Just outside... the castle."

"Brought them as potential leverage in negotiating with my sister, did you?" He gave Hindel's hair a painful jerk. "Order their release, now. Do it and we'll let your troops live."

It was then that Hindel saw, little by little, what the answer to his question for Iom was. One part of the answer was in the battle taking place before him.

Dusty had looked like he had something to contribute to Eli and Hindel's conversation, but before he could say or do anything, Alric came up behind him and brought his bo over Dusty's head and against the front of his neck, locking him in place and strangling him. It was a bit odd that he didn't simply strike him with his bo, but perhaps he was reluctant to harm Hindel's brother. "Go, Nancie!" he cried. "Heal him!"

Nancie was moving to do as he said, probably intending to use a level 3 Heal spell, but Dusty grasped Alric's bo with both hands and performed a backwards head-butt against his face. While Alric fell back with a gasp of pain, Dusty snatched his sword off the floor and lunged at Nancie. She fell back two steps, and his first slash ripped through her robes to make a stinging cut across her stomach instead of slicing her wide open.

"You did this to him!" he yelled at her. "Without you Iom worshipers encouraging him, Hindel wouldn't have succumbed to this madness!"

Nancie could only stare at Dusty in terror, defenseless as she was, and his other comrades weren't doing much better. Even as they rushed to Hindel's aid, Barro was rallying Eli's band to stop them. "Taela, break their ranks with some wildfire! Rimeon, keep her safe! Caleb, nail that birdwoman if you can, keep her at bay if you can't! Farrell, Karis, the three of us will take them down one at a time, together."

They fulfilled Barro's orders. While Caleb still had the bo he'd wielded in the Shining Force's first encounter with them, it was strapped to his back and his hands were now busy with a crossbow. Adorn managed to elude his arrows, but his shots were well-aimed enough that she had to keep her distance, where she couldn't help. And unlike Eli's band, the Shining Force were without a leader to direct them. Hindel would have told them to spread out a little; instead, Redgar, Bradford, and Kellam stuck together so close that Taela's Blaze spell hit them all. And while Bradford wasted time using his shield to beat out the flames from Kellam's robes – flames which the mage could more easily put out himself with his magic – Barro, Karis, and Farrell were ganging up on Redgar.

The second part of Hindel's answer was in Hindel himself. It was the recognition that he'd again given up too easily. Before, his mistake was not trusting in Iom's power; this time, it was becoming dependent on it. Iom was mighty, but he could not do everything for Hindel. He had to do some things himself.

He had to. Not just for Iom's sake, but for his friends' sake. And even for Queen Anri and King Kay's sake. Just like his friends, they'd put his trust in him. He couldn't let them down.

He began willing the change in reverse, starting from his heart and proceeding slowly outwards. He needed to keep Eli from suspecting anything, so he answered his demand. "I can't let... your parents go. Your father is too willful... too determined to be in control of everything. He'd ruin Iom's plan for us."

"That's good news as far as I'm concerned. And as far as you're concerned, I think you dying at my hand will ruin Iom's plans just as well."

"You don't understand..." The change was now nearly at the surface of his skin. Though he couldn't tell for sure, it felt as though the sword wound was still there, but closed up by reforming human flesh. And against a human, the Sword of Hajya was just another weapon; it could kill him, but it could no longer sever his connection to his god. He readied himself to make his move. "Without Iom's power and wisdom, you can't defeat Kerinam."

"I don't know who Kerinam is, but I'm quite sure we can defeat him without your he-"

Hindel shot his left foot back into against Eli's ankle and then, as he pitched forward, greeted him with an elbow to the stomach. The prince was undoubtedly well-trained, but too inexperienced to anticipate a surprise move like that. He lost his grip on the Sword of Hajya, but Hindel couldn't waste time trying to pick it up.

Nancie had been coming to his aid, so Dusty, in attacking her, had his back to him. He leapt into Dusty, knocking him to the floor. In less chaotic circumstances he'd have given his younger brother a lecture about attacking helpless people, but right now he had to diffuse the situation without delay, so he just gave Dusty a hard rap against the floor to stun him and borrowed his sword. Nancie, Iom bless her, was already casting a heal spell to undo the wound inflicted on him by the Sword of Hajya. Even so, he opted not to change back to Iom form just yet. Changing too frequently took a toll on his body, and besides, letting lose with that sort of power in a room in which enemies, allies, and people he wished were his allies were all so crowded together was bound to have disastrous effects.

_For you, Iom. I'll solve this one myself, for you._

First, he needed to help his troops, and defeat Eli's force. Much as he'd like to resolve the whole thing peaceably, Eli clearly wasn't going to give up on liberating his parents, and Hindel honestly couldn't blame him.

"Bradford, leave Kellam; you and Alric help Redgar! Nancie, Aura spell centered on Redgar, now!"

They were just fast enough that Nancie undid most of the damage done so far before Taela launched another Blaze spell. In Iom form Hindel could have deflected it easily, but for now they would just have to endure it. He ran up to Kellam's side; the mage had just finished putting out the flames on his robes. "Kellam, can you nail the one with the crossbow, at least stun him enough to make him stop shooting a moment?"

"Yes, but I'll need to get closer."

"I'll cover you. Adorn! When I say 'rain', hit them hard!"

"This... this isn't right!" she protested. "They're only fighting us because you took his parents – which you never told me, by the way!"

"I'm not ordering you to kill them, just save our friends!" There was no time to argue; Barro had already advanced to clash swords with Hindel, while Kellam was casting Freeze on Caleb, making his fingers momentarily too numb and pained to pull the trigger of his crossbow. He'd just have to trust Adorn, and pray to Iom that she would trust him as well. "Rain!"

Adorn swooped down, slicing her blade across Caleb's trigger arm while striking him with a left hook. Caleb was one of the braver members of Eli's team, Hindel gave him that, but as he'd calculated, not one of the hardier ones. He crumpled at Adorn's attack, leaving her still time to hit Karis with the flat of her blade before flying back out of range. They had relied too much on Caleb keeping Adorn at bay, and this stroke was enough to reinvigorate the Shining Force's efforts against them.

The Shining Force had no centaurs among them, but Alric made up for that lack of height by holding his bo by one end and swinging it up to strike Karis's jaw. Her face contorted in a sort of eager bloodlust. "You first, then the birdwoman! You stinking Iom worshipers!"

She lunged at Alric with lance pointed at his head, but in her rage she overlooked the much shorter warrior standing in front of Alric. As Karis passed over him, Bradford raised his axe and cut open her underbelly. Bloody innards spilling over him, he rolled out of the way as Karis crashed to the floor.

Meanwhile, thanks to his companion's actions, Redgar was no longer faced with three opponents; only Farrell still stood against him, and he had been caught by the outer edges of Kellam's Freeze spell. Farrell was very skilled, but Redgar was faster, fast enough to slip the point of his spear past the beastman's defenses and into his chest.

"Unlessss you acquired a healer after the lasst time we met," Redgar said, "I recommend you get out of my way."

Farrell paused a moment and then, surprisingly, complied with Redgar's suggestion, allowing him to advance upon Rimeon and Taela. It wasn't hard to guess why: After Hindel knocked Eli to the floor, a Guardiana dwarf warrior had taken advantage and was trying to finish the prince off. Hindel's mother had told him all about the Royal Protectors, and it stood to reason that either Farrell or Rimeon was Eli's.

Not that Hindel could devote any real thought to that at the moment. He was still engaged in swordplay with Barro, their steel clashing again and again in rapid succession. "You're quite skilled at this," Barro complimented

Hindel did not answer, seeing no sense in engaging in chatter. But the truth was, Barro was more than a bit skilled with the sword himself. He had the intensity and confidence of someone who had devoted a lot more hours to sword training than Hindel's dad would have given him even if he'd asked. He also had the same fierce resolution Hindel had seen in him during their first battle, though he didn't pretend to know where it came from. And Hindel still felt a bit weak from being impaled by the Sword of Hajya, so he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up the exertion of striking one heavy piece of steel against another for much longer. It didn't help that he was using Dusty's sword, which had been specially forged for his younger but physically stronger brother. He couldn't keep this up.

He didn't need to. With the rest of Eli's forces occupied by the Shining Force, none of them could stop Adorn from flying wherever she wanted. She swooped down behind Barro and cut a sizable tear down his back. His foe thus momentarily distracted, Hindel cut into his sword arm, disarming him.

"You fought a good fight," Hindel said, holding the point of his sword against the center of Barro's chest. "But we've learned teamwork."

"Get away from my cousin!" Eli roared, swinging the Sword of Hajya at Hindel.

Hindel easily sidestepped the stroke and parried Eli's follow-up. The prince was a more than decent fighter, but he lacked Barro's fiery resolve, and was also rather the worse for the wear; his earlier tussles with Hindel and the Guardiana warrior had left him with a number of visible cuts and bruises, with no healer to undo them. But he wasn't giving up, either.

Hindel cast his glance hopefully upward, but Adorn was now trapped in aerial combat with Claude. The tide had nonetheless clearly turned against Eli's force, but... _Can't I end this any other way? Do I have to kill Eli? I'm willing to accept a death here and there to avert hundreds more lives from being thrown away, but what about Princess Judith? Will she still support my side if I kill her brother?_

He was suddenly struck by something: Judith had yet to leave the room. _Why? She must realize that her life is too valuable to risk in a chaotic skirmish like this. As a member of the Cypress royal family, she must have been trained in combat, but she isn't joining the fight, so... She wouldn't risk staying here just to view the outcome, would she?_

But as he half watched Judith out of the corner of his eyes, which were focused on her brother, she stiffened and clenched her fists, as if coming to a resolution. Then she undid a single button of her dress and pulled out a dagger concealed there – not the weapon of a warrior, but a helpful contingency in case of treachery. In this case, though, Hindel guessed that the treachery would be on her part, even before she took aim with the dagger.

So he called out, "Princess Judith!"

Though he hadn't been planning on it, this shout broke Eli's concentration; the prince turned his head to follow Hindel's gaze. Hindel took advantage of the distraction, by kicking Eli square in the stomach. He fell back with a pained whoosh of breath.

"Princess Judith!" he repeated. "You can end this violence! Just tell your brother to surrender!"

"I'd rather we defeated you, freed my parents, and dealt with Kerinam on our own terms," Judith answered, but she did not throw the dagger yet.

"If I die here, at the hands of the Cypress royal family, my men will kill your parents. You must realize that! Unless you stop this madness now, you're gambling with your brother's life as well! I swear to you, your parents will go free, without conditions, once this is over!"

Judith hesitated just a moment more, then said, "Call them off, Eli."

He stared at her. "Have you lost your mind, Judith? You're really taking this madman's word?"

"When you turned to look at me, he could have skewered you with his blade instead of kicking you away. He plays the part of a villain well, but I can't think of any reason why a real villain would spare your life in this situation." She looked at her brother with pained sympathy. "I'm sorry, Eli. I know it seems like everyone's been doubting you, and you wanted to prove them wrong by winning this victory. But we need to be allied with Cypress, Emild, and Guardiana, not fighting them."

Eli listened to what she said, and looked at Hindel. Hindel looked back at him, and this time he did not look at him with menace. Trying to cower the Cypressians had not worked. Judith was right; they needed to be allies.

Eli dropped his sword and said, "People of Cypress! Put down your weapons! General Hindel, Princess Judith, and I are calling a truce!" Once he was sure that everyone had obeyed his command, he turned to his sister. "If father decides to make you his heir instead of me, I'll accept that."

Judith smiled. "Thank you, brother. But I think you're more fit to be king than you've had the chance to prove yet."

With the chaos at last settling down, Hindel looked around for Valeria. But she was gone.


	38. Chapter 38: Hostages

\- Chapter 38: Hostages -

"And so you expect me to simply bend my knee to you without a fight, is that?" King Saul held up a glass, which a servant compliantly filled with water.

Hindel shrugged. "It's a fight you'll lose. Cypress, Guardiana, Emild, and Tyber have all joined forces with Iom, either as our allies or our vassals. And we've already taken out two of Sharland's major forts."

"It's a good bluff, I'll give you that, but still just a bluff." He sipped his water, a lazy expression on his face. "'Joined forces' perhaps they have, but it will be weeks before Emild and Tyber can muster a proper army to send against us. The consequence of decades of peace, you know. As for Guardiana, I have a very reliable source which tells me that Queen Anri won't be able to call forth her nation's full forces. Her position there is very insecure right now."

"Thanks to your allies from Kerinam."

"Ah, so you're as well-informed as I. Ultimately that means little, but your victories in our fight mean even less. You and your 'Shining Force' took both those forts by simple trickery; hardly any Sharland troops fell in combat."

"That was thanks to me."

* * *

"I saw her, passing by a window," Adorn said, coming down for a landing. "Up on the third floor."

"Any guards with her?" Bradford asked.

Adorn hesitated. "...This feels wrong. When you get down to it, we're just abducting the woman. Hindel said we have to do it to protect her from the Kerinamese, to stop them from using her as a hostage to force King Saul to do their will. But what if we're abducting Muriel so that _we_ can use her to force King Saul to do _our_ will?"

Her companions gave her some curious looks in response. "I thought you ssaid you trusst Hindel, Adorn," Redgar said.

"I do... but this thing with his parents..."

"He explained that to us. And his little brother believes him," Ruce pointed out.

"But why didn't he tell us about it earlier? And what about his other brother – the one he locked up!"

Ruce knew the answers. He knew because he'd heard Hindel talking to his little brother. He was good at listening in on things he wasn't meant to hear.

* * *

"I never said I killed Mom and Dad," he'd heard Hindel say to his brother. "You misunderstood."

"Yeah, sure... and I guess Dust was lying when he said he saw their bodies, huh?" Joshua said.

"He saw their bodies, but not _dead_ bodies. I just put them to sleep so they wouldn't interfere."

That seemed to strike a nerve. Joshua almost bellowed, "Put them to -"

Hindel put a hand over his brother's mouth and shushed him. "Yes, put them to sleep. Iom gave me great power, remember?"

"So? You think that gives you the right to put our parents in a never-ending sleep?"

"It's not never-ending. Woldol used the same spell on Queen Anri, and you can see for yourself that she's just fine. And it's not about my rights. I had to do it so that Iom could save everyone. I had to have Dusty locked up for the same reason. I thought I could leave him be, and that was a mistake. He almost ruined everything, and got everyone killed, including me."

"But you're letting _me_ stay free," Joshua pointed out. "Because you figure I'm too weak to do anything."

"No." Hindel said the word like a plea. "That's not it, Josh. I'm not having you locked up because I think you might believe me. Dusty wouldn't."

"You expect me to just trust you? After everything you've done?"

"You have to, Josh." He clutched at his little brother's shoulders and stared fervently into his eyes. "When I first took on this mission, I didn't want any of you involved. If I could have made it happen, I'd have rather just not had a family until this was all over. When Iom warned me that Mom and Dad would ruin things if I didn't deal with them, my plan was to just lock you all away without a word, and I wouldn't have to talk to you or explain things. I thought none of you would ever forgive me no matter what I said anyway, so I..." Tears were coming to Hindel's face now. He swallowed back some of the hoarseness in his voice. "Even when I was living at home, you all hurt me almost every day, with the way you despised Iom, and despised me for loving him. I didn't want to face your reaction to this. But now that you and Dusty forced me to face it... I want to at least know that one of you can understand me. You're my best hope, not just between you and Dusty, but all of them."

"Me?" Joshua's face was torn with angry confusion. "Why _me_? I treated you worse than anyone. I'm the one who was always making fun of that damn demon you worship!"

"But you know me, Josh." His grip on his brother's shoulders relaxed. "You're the only one of my brothers and sisters who ever bothered to get to know me. If you don't understand why I'm doing this, none of them will."

"Oh, I understand. You're doing this for Iom! You've conveniently got Kerinam as the bigger threat to wave in front of your allies, but the thing you want most is to bring the world under Iom's control."

"Yes." Hindel nodded. "Yes, you're right. But it's also true that if I don't do this, Kerinam will take over, and even to a non-believer like yourself, that would be much worse than Iom ruling the world. Do you believe me, Josh?"

Joshua seemed to catch himself, as if suddenly seeing reason to rethink his position. "Wait... So you're saying that when you had the guards arrest us, and wouldn't even look at us when they took us away... That was just because you were ashamed to face us with what you were doing? That you don't really think we don't matter next to Iom?"

"I'm not _ashamed_ -" Hindel started to protest.

But Joshua cut him off with a grin. "So you really _are_ still the same old Hindel, as hopelessly stuck on his god as ever."

"This is serious, Josh. And if you do believe me, I need you to do something for me. Tell me where Jacinda is." Joshua went abruptly silent. "She was with you and Dusty when you guys attacked me on the way here, so you must have brought her to Castle Cypress, or nearby. I figure you must have left her with one of Mom's old friends, but you have to tell me who so we can get to her quickly, before the Kerinamese find her. My being afraid to face you wasn't the only reason I put the whole family in prison. I was afraid the Kerinamese might use you as hostages against me, and the best protection I could give you was making it look like I didn't care. I'm hoping that deception is still holding up, but now that Kerinam is losing the fight, they may be desperate enough to try anything. Tell me where Jacinda is."

Josh remained silent, but only a moment more. "...You promise you won't sacrifice her to Iom?"

"I promise." A smile cracked its way onto Hindel's face, but though he'd obviously been trying to hold it back, it wasn't a smile of malevolence, only warm amusement. Ruce knew, then, that he hadn't been lying about the danger of the Kerinamese taking hostages; the fearsome Iom general really did have a soft spot.

"Okay. We left her with Vyra."

"Thank you." He raised his voice. "Alric! Kellen! Come on, we've got someplace to go." He turned back to Joshua. "One last thing. Do you know where Uncle Dust is right now?"

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "You think someone other than Dust might _know where Dust is_?"

"Just thought I'd ask."

* * *

So Ruce knew the answers to Adorn's questions. Hindel hadn't told his comrades what he'd done to his parents because he'd wanted to maintain the image that he'd done away with his own family. Even if he could trust everyone in his "Shining Force", telling them the truth could lead to that image being broken. And given that Adorn was now challenging his direct orders, Ruce suspected Hindel had reason to not fully trust all of them.

But of course he couldn't tell Adorn that. Her other question had a more obvious answer. "Look, Adorn, it's clearly not a matter of whether Dusty – the brother Hindel had locked up – can trust Hindel. It's whether Hindel can trust Dusty. Whatever it was he was trying to accomplish, attacking Iom's general in the middle of delicate international negotiations in the heart of Castle Cypress, with the queen of Guardiana present, has to have been the worst possible way of going about it. I don't think any of us want someone like that at Hindel's side while he's negotiating with King Saul.

"In fact, the question you should be asking is why Hindel settled for just locking him up. I mean, he's a fanatical worshiper of Iom. Nothing could be more lawful than to have a traitor sacrificed to his god, and we would have no diplomatic wherewithal to tell him no."

"But Dusty was just trying to avenge his parents," Adorn protested.

"So he says. Even assuming there isn't more to it than that, he ought to have bided his time to strike, instead of endangering Queen Anri and everyone else. As for why Hindel didn't tell you... Come on. He seems like a private man, and by all appearances this is strictly a family matter. You can see how he might not want to come forward with that, don't you?"

"Yes, but... That he would do something like that, don't you think that says something about the sort of man he is?"

"It might." Ruce paced around. "But that's not what counts. What counts is that he's on our side. I knew a man named Nick during the war between Guardiana and Cypress. We eventually found out that he'd been lying to us all along, that he was really the heir to the throne of Cypress. We fought alongside him anyway, and we won. It didn't matter that he lied to us. It didn't matter that his motives weren't the same as ours. We both got what we wanted."

"If I can interject a thought here," Kellen said. "Adorn, I always thought you were in this for the same reason as me: to stop the killing. Hindel has gotten us this far with as little killing as possible, hasn't he? Why not trust him just a little bit further, since he's already been proving himself worthy of that trust?"

"Even if Hindel doesn't intend to really kill her, that still doesn't make it right to use Muriel as a hostage, and nothing he's done so far makes me think he wouldn't do that," Adorn returned. She spread her wings with a heavy sigh. "But you have a point; we've come this far, so we might as well see this through to the end. My main worry is what Hindel plans to do if he wins."

"So," Bradford said, eyes burning with impatience, "...any. Guards. With her?"

"No guards. There is a man walking with her – a very strange man. He's wearing some odd headpiece of bits of wire and glass in front of his eyes."

A groan went through the Cypressians. Though it had been ruled too diplomatically risky to have the heir to the Cypress throne on this mission, Barro and his four young friends had been sent along as representatives.

"It's Jepper," Barro said. "The man who led troops against us when we set out in search for King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair."

"You mean Ssharland wass behind the kidnapping of your king and queen?" Redgar asked.

"No, I mean Kerinam has him in place to kill Muriel if King Saul doesn't do their bidding."

"Either that or Hindel lied to us, and Jepper really is an agent of Iom," Karis scowled.

Barro shook his head. "Why send us to get Muriel if one of his own agents had already accomplished the task? I hate to say this, Hindel being Iom's chief disciple, but this is more evidence that Hindel has been telling the truth." He looked up at the castle. "Another thing. If Jepper is working for Kerinam, this confirms my suspicion that he was handling us with kid gloves when we fought him, so that we would capture him and he could pin the blame on Iom. We'll need all our wits, and all our care, if we're going to get Muriel safely away from him."

* * *

"You don't seem to understand," Saul pushed. "Your grandiose schemes to win victories with minimal bloodshed, like that inspired bit where you used some sort of low-intensity, wide area Spark spell to stun anyone in the castle wearing armor or chain mail, do not impress me. They simply reveal that you lack either the military might or the ruthlessness to slay your enemies, likely both. I assure you," he gave Hindel a meaningful look, "...Kerinam is not lacking in either of those things."

Hindel considered. "...Can you be sure of that? Have you counted their troops?"

Saul said nothing. He looked vaguely disappointed at the question.

"Of course you haven't," Hindel went on, holding on to his feigned confidence. "The reason you're impressed by Kerinam's army is their unique weaponry. Iom tells me they excavated it from an ancient civilization. Which means that, as terrifying as these weapons might be on an individual basis, they don't have enough of them to arm all their troops. Which means they won't be able to stand against us so long as we stand together, and have Iom on our side. The only reason Kerinam thinks they even have a chance is because they still have you."

Saul shook his head. "The fact is, Kerinam doesn't need to arm all their troops with ancient weapons. Just a half dozen men armed with these devices could kill hundreds, even thousands, before you brought them down. Whether you're victorious or no, you lose if you go up against Kerinam. And why go against them at all? When you and Cypress go to war, it's always for either conquest or to settle some feud, so you assume it must be the same for Kerinam. In fact, they intend to leave all the nations of this continent fully independent. They just want to share their ideology."

"I know what they want. I have no intention of letting them spread their ideology anywhere." He stepped closer to Saul, holding his gaze. _Time to get to the point._ "And you're bluffing about Kerinam's strength."

Saul chuckled. "Bluffing. My dear boy, you are obviously new to the world political situation, and tragically unversed in history. Sharland doesn't bluff. My grandmother never bluffed, my father never bluffed, and I have no intention of breaking the tradition. You see, in every war we side with whoever has the obvious advantage. If we can't be sure of being the victor with either side, we simply don't get involved. We leave Cypress, Iom, and Emild to hash it out among themselves. Of course that means we can rarely negotiate for a large cut of the victor's spoils, but it also means we never end up being the one _paying_ those spoils, so it more than evens out. In short: If Kerinam were not as strong as I say they are, I'd simply join you."

"Ordinarily that would be the case, yes."

* * *

"It was good of Rolland to introduce you to me," Princess Muriel said to Jepper. "You've been good company these past few days, and a much appreciated distraction from this war, and my husband being sent off to fight in it."

Jepper nodded. "War is such a terrible thing... Yet so long as there are madmen like General Hindel, it seems we must endure it, yes?"

"I do not blame General Hindel. His religion mandates conquest, and while I believe his religion is wrong, I can respect his devotion to it. Saul is the real villain here."

He blinked at her. "But all he's done is defend us."

"No. He's ordered us to defend his wealth and pride. Iom can be negotiated with; Cypress, Guardiana, and Tyber have all already done so. Saul is holding out because it's good men like my husband who have to fight and die for his war, while he's the one who has to suffer the indignity of agreeing to Iom's terms. You know, I even wrote to him asking him to stop the war, pointing out that the worst he'd have to do was sign away some tracts of land and offer a little tribute. The flippancy of his reply was beyond belief. He actually said I didn't want to go against Cypress because I'm still holding a torch for King Nicholas." She was trembling with anger.

"I understand your frustration, dear Muriel. But I know your brother, and he must have a good reason. He still loves you as much or more than any brother has loved his sister."

"Perhaps he does, but I despise him. And if he has a good reason, he could certainly have told it to me."

"That's rather unfair to him, don't you think?"

Muriel sighed. "Forgive me. I shouldn't have allowed the conversation to roam to our family squabbles. Please, let's discuss anything other than -"

She was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. A dwarf cannonballed through the window and smacked into Jepper's face. The two of them crashed to the floor, the dwarf's legs wrapped around Jepper's neck.

As Muriel looked on in horror, Bradford grabbed an axe that he had strapped to his back and raised it over his head. "Great throw, Adorn!" he called. "We can get out of here in about three seconds!"

"Get off me!" Jepper hollered. He tried to throw Bradford over his head, but though the dwarf's size was less, his strength and weight were not. And with Bradford's free hand smothering his face, the headpiece of glass and wire tumbling off his face as they struggled, he could only grope blindly as the axe came down.

Then a whip lashed out, wrapping around Bradford's arm, yanking his thrust onto a new vector. The axe landed a few inches to the right of Jepper's head. Bradford turned to see two new entrants: one bearing the whip, another a crossbow. Jepper used the moment of distraction to hurl Bradford off of him and leap to his feet.

Jepper smirked at him, but vaguely. It was almost as though the Kerinam commander suddenly could not see. "You really thought I'd be here alone, did -" There was a crunching sound at Jepper's feet. He looked down. "Dammit! My glasses!"

Adorn swooped in through the broken window, cutting down the crossbow-wielder with her sword. The other Kerinamese struck with the whip again, this time lashing Bradford in the face. But the dwarf was hardy, and more than ready to endure pain for the sake of his god and his god's messenger, Hindel. He grabbed the barbed end of the whip in his fist, and as his own blood oozed out between his fingers, he yanked the weapon away from his attacker.

Overcoming the freeze of panic, Muriel went to Jepper and grasped his arm. "Come on, we've got to get out of here!"

"A good idea," he agreed.

But they found the other end of the hall blocked as well, by nearly a dozen warriors from Iom, Cypress, and Guardiana. "Nice to see you again, Jepper," Barro said. "Now step away from princess Muriel."

"So this is what it comes to, yes?" Jepper reached into his pocket and pulled out an object the size of a coin purse. He pressed a button on it.

Immediately, a painful shrieking rent the air. Everyone but Jepper fell to the floor, clutching their ears in agony.

"My apologies, my dear Muriel." He lifted her up in his arms. "I'd have given you some earplugs of your own, but that would have raised questions about our technology that I'd rather not answer to you. Of course, from now on I'll be able to give you all the answers you want, since I'll have to take you captive. Hindel obviously knows of your importance to King Saul, so we'll have to hide you somewhere."

He turned a corner. "Needless to say -" He froze at the sight before him.

It was difficult to make out without his glasses, but it looked like a creature of smooth tarnished metal. "What... what is this?" he gaped. "I've never seen a model like this before... and why would the commander send one without telling me? What -"

The creature reached out and took the little device from Jepper. "My designation is Adam," it said. "I have found two new secondary directives. One is to protect Her Majesty, Queen Anri. The other is to end any destructive use of the technology of the Ancients." Adam looked at the device. "The noise produced by this unit is harmless to my neural receptors, but debilitating to most forms of sentient life." Adam made a fist, crushing it into tiny shards of plastic and electronics.

Jepper continued to gawk. "The Guardianans have Ancient technology? Then... why didn't they..."

"I do not belong to Guardiana. I follow only my prime directive." He aimed his left arm, which had a lazer weapon on the end. "Release the woman."

* * *

"I don't see the sense in continuing this discussion further," Saul said at last. "If you think you can defeat the combined forces of Sharland and Kerinam, by all means, have at it."

"It didn't occur to me immediately," Hindel went on, as if his host had said nothing at all. "But eventually I figured that Kerinam had to have some special hold on you. It just didn't make sense otherwise. You aren't foolish enough to buy into their ideology, though you wouldn't necessarily be opposed to it, and you aren't weak enough to lose control of your court, the way King Kay and to a lesser extent Queen Anri did. So I consulted my allies. Most of them had no idea, but Prince Barro told me about a weak point in your otherwise strong armor. Something the Kerinamese might leverage against you."

"You're grasping at straws. The truth is obvious: we have advantages that will allow us to win this war without trouble, and I'm not going to tell you what they are."

"In the end, it was no more than an educated guess. However, it seems to have proven correct. What would you say if I brought your sister Muriel here to you?"

"As your hostage?"

Hindel shook his head. "I proposed that, but Queen Anri was firmly against it, and I've decided to go along with her. It's a risk. If Kerinam has another hold on you, then I gain nothing by handing Muriel over to you, and this war will continue, likely taking many innocent lives. But by holding Muriel hostage, I would then be putting you in a terrible dilemma. That doesn't sit well with me. For once in this war, I'd like to be a liberator."

He got to his feet, went to the doors, and swung them open. In walked Princess Muriel, flanked by a half dozen of his soldiers.

As soon as he saw his sister, King Saul signaled his guards. They promptly fired arrows into one of their own. The guard fell dead on the floor.

"What in Iom's name?!" Hindel cried, shifting to his Iom form.

"At ease," Saul said. "He was one of Kerinam's agents. Surely you had guessed that they would be monitoring me to make sure I complied with their wishes?"

Hindel stared, strangely sickened by the sight of the bloodied corpse. "Of course, I had, but..."

"Ah, but you didn't expect me to know who the agent was, or that I would be so ready to eliminate him when the moment came?" He downed the last of his water, then held out his glass, and a servant poured him some wine. "Understandable. All your other foes seem to have underestimated you, but I have not. I thought you might figure out that Muriel was the key, and while it was certainly doubtful whether you would take steps to rescue her or just conquer Sharland the old-fashioned way, it only made sense to prepare for either eventuality. After all, it would be a shame if you rescued her and brought her here, only to have her slain by Kerinamese in my own court." He stepped up to Muriel, took her hand, and kissed it. "It does my heart good to see you once again, Muriel. I hope you will be in attendance at the festivities celebrating our new alliance with Iom?"

Muriel looked away from him. "I should like to go home now, please."

"Out of the question. Kerinam will certainly try coming after you again. However, if your wish is to be away from here, I'm sure Hindel can arrange a good hiding place for you."

"Thank you. That would indeed suit my desire."

King Saul looked at her a brief moment in silence, then turned to Hindel. "Perhaps I was being presumptuous. Am I right in thinking that you want us as allies in the fight against Kerinam, or would you prefer that we simply surrender to you?"

It had only been a moment, and now Saul was as animated and dignified as ever. But for that moment, Hindel could have sworn he saw pain in the king's eyes.


	39. Chapter 39: The Trap Is Set

\- Chapter 39: The Trap Is Set -

Hindel left it to King Amelo to oversee the signing of the articles of surrender and went to talk to Muriel. At this point he trusted Amelo with things like these, not because Amelo held any sort of sincere faith in Iom, but because he was smart enough not to go against public opinion, and news from Iom indicated that the people's faith in their god was increasing as Hindel continued to meet with victory after victory. And he had a strong reason for speaking to Muriel.

Four guards, a mix of Iom and Guardiana soldiers, were posted outside her room, and two Sharland guards were posted inside; no one had any intention of giving Kerinam a chance to use her as a hostage again. They let Hindel into the room without question, but the ones inside made no move to leave, nor did Hindel expect them to. Neither he nor Saul were certain what the Kerinam forces were capable of, so the sensible thing was to trust no one.

"How are you faring, Your Highness?" he asked.

She remained seated in her chair, though her gaze was politely focused on him. "Well enough. However, I would be much happier if I had my husband here with me."

"I'm sure Saul will have him sent back from the field as soon as the articles of surrender are signed. You don't need to worry about him. My entire invasion force is gathered here in the capital now, so there's no chance of any more battles with Sharland forces."

She just nodded. Then, after a pause, "Forgive me if I'm not as grateful to you as I should be. It's just that I don't see much reason to trust either you or Saul."

Hindel sat down in the chair opposite her. "Not trusting me is understandable enough. I'm a stranger. But your brother..." He swallowed. He wasn't sure what he was doing, starting a conversation like this with a woman he barely knew. "...He loves you, Muriel. He would never lie to you, or needlessly endanger your husband."

"You don't know him. You don't know what he's capable of."

"I'm sure he's capable of doing a lot of things. But he wouldn't, not if it meant hurting you. Don't you realize he was waging a war on every other nation on the continent just to preserve your life?"

"I have only the word of your men and Saul that Jepper would have hurt me, and again, I don't trust you." She flashed him a smile. "In fact, I trust Saul less than you. I don't trust you, but I don't actually _distrust_ you either. Saul I distrust. And no, it's not because of one specific thing he's done. It's who he is. He's a schemer, with no morals or scruples whatsoever."

This was increasingly baffling to Hindel. _I barely know Saul, and even I could see how fond of her he is. How can his own sister not realize it?_ "But Saul loves you. You must realize that he loves you."

Muriel cocked her head at him. "Let me direct with you, Hindel. It may seem a bit cruel, but I've had more than enough experience with suitors, and I've found it's the most merciful thing. I am loyal to my husband, and while you're certainly cute enough to charm some young lady, I personally am not attracted to you at all."

"W-what?" Hindel blushed, noticing for the first time that Muriel _was_ an extremely attractive woman. He had not forgotten the two guards in the room, which only made his embarrassment worse. "No, no... I'm not interested in... I mean, you do seem like a lovely woman, but I would never..."

"Then why are you here," she smiled coolly, as if she did not realize he was blushing and stammering like a fool, "...telling me that I have to realize my brother loves me? Could it possibly be because Saul sent you?"

"No!" The reply came sharply, but this fresh turn in the conversation actually calmed him somewhat. "I came on my own. I noticed what was going on between you two, and I wanted to help."

Muriel shook head. "Why should a stranger – especially one currently leading an army in capturing and securing the entire continent – be concerned with my little familial divisions?"

"Because it's not right... because he's still your brother!" He sharply stood up from his chair. "Even if you disagree with his philosophies, or his beliefs, or his morals, or even his actions, he's still your brother! It's wrong to just cast him out!"

The emotion in this outburst surprised Hindel at least as much as Muriel. He fell silent.

Muriel studied him. "It sounds as if you have your own family troubles."

She said it so simply, without a trace of being perturbed, that Hindel's embarrassment immediately faded. "...Yes. I guess... maybe that's why I wanted to talk to you. Maybe, I figured that if I couldn't solve my problems with my siblings, I could at leave solve someone else's."

"Why do you think you can't solve your own problems? Have you at least tried saying to them what you just said to me?"

"I..." _I did say something to Dusty, before he left home, and it didn't work. But the others? Well, what does it matter now? That bridge has been burnt. I count myself lucky that Josh forgave me for what I did to Mom and Dad; the others will never forgive me. It won't matter to them that it was Iom's will._ "I... I'd rather not talk about them, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. I prefer discussing romantic matters more than family matters. Is there anyone to whom your heart is attached?"

He thought of Nancie, and blushed. "No, not really."

There was a silence.

"Well, go on," Muriel prompted. "You can't give me a tantalizing reaction like that and then not tell me anything about it!"

Hindel glanced again at the two guards. They showed little interest in the conversation, but nonetheless, it wouldn't be wise to say more in their presence. _It's too bad... I don't know what it is, but I feel like I could actually talk about this with Muriel._

"There's not much to tell," he said. "There was something between us, but we had to put it aside so that I could fulfill Iom's plan for the world. Looking back, I'm not sure that it was love anyway." He stood up. "I have things to attend to. Send word to me if there's anything else you want."

Muriel nodded. "It was a pleasure speaking with you," she said, though she didn't completely hide her disappointment from her face.

* * *

"And here," Saul said, spreading it out across the table, "...is the navigational chart and maps showing how to get to Kerinam. If any of the rest of you are short on ships, I've a few to spare."

"You've been preparing for this day, then," Prince Eli surmised.

"You're as astute as your father. Yes, of course. I wouldn't say I either agree or disagree with Kerinam's way of life, but I do not care for the way they've set about foisting it on Sharland's allies. The one thing restraining me was the threat to my sister, and I had a feeling that General Hindel would deduce the problem there and solve it before it was too late. And now we're all on the same side."

"Not quite." Eli folded his arms. "Iom has not yet returned the king and queen of Cypress."

"And we will not, until Iom is beaten," Hindel said. "That is what Iom has ordered, and what I promised your sister."

"If my father were here, leading this alliance, he'd -"

"Find a way to get the Sword of Hajya away from me," Hindel interrupted. "...use it to kill me, and then spend months building a scheme to systematically break Kerinam. That is unacceptable to my god, and moreover, I can resolve this situation much more quickly."

Eli smirked. "I take it you have no idea how to read maps, so I'll have to interpret for you." He laid a finger on the map. "The distance from here to Kerinam -"

"Is several weeks by ship, if not longer. That's just one reason why I think taking the offensive is a bad idea. Another is the technology we've seen them use. We have very little idea what weapons they have, or how many, so we could well arrive in Kerinam to find ourselves outnumbered and overpowered. Besides, the destruction of Kerinam isn't our real goal."

Queen Anri inclined her head. "What are you proposing?"

"A defensive approach. If Kerinam's finest see that they can't overcome us, they'll leave us alone."

"I am fully in favor of ending this with minimal bloodshed, General Hindel. But I think it is more likely that if we do as you say, Kerinam will simply wait for a better opportunity."

"In an ordinary war, that might be the case. But there's a more powerful piece in play." He stood up. "Faith."

* * *

Valeria took a deep breath before knocking. She never looked forward to reporting to Britta, and this particular meeting was not going to go well. The mess this situation had become was beyond belief. She'd thought this would be so simple: just show the primitives their technology, explain to them how their religion was simply a self-imposed chain holding them back, and the truth would be apparent to them. Oh, she'd anticipated some stubbornness from the natives of this continent... _What I didn't expect was that they'd have more impressive things to show us than we have to show them._

She silenced that thought and finally knocked. A simple "Come in" followed, and she stepped inside.

Britta was pawing through the bookshelf. For a moment she gave no sign of being aware of Valeria's presence, but then she abruptly pulled out a book and turned to her, holding it loosely in her hand.

"What are you doing?" Valeria asked, partly curious, but also eager to turn the conversation to anything other than the matters they needed to discuss.

"Reading up on their history and culture," Britta said. "It's very odd. The texts for Kerinam's religions usually contain historical accounts of their prophets, but accounts of the gods themselves are always written in the manner of myths and legends." She held up the book. "There are historical-style accounts here of encounters with Iom in the recent past. A book from Guardiana in this collection also takes a historical approach to divine intervention, though the accounts are not quite as recent."

"'Odd'? I'd call it discouraging. It suggests the people on this continent haven't even reached the point where they can recognize a trick of the light as a trick of the light and an unusual happenstance as an unusual happenstance instead of an act of god. It may be another two or three centuries before they're intellectually mature enough to accept what we have to teach them."

"Yes. But that much we knew already."

"We... knew?"

Britta lifted an eyebrow. "Why do you think you were assigned to capture the king and queen of Cypress? Persuasion was one of the methods we attempted in this mission, but only in those times and places where it stood a chance of doing good. In most cases we knew it wouldn't, which meant we had to work on replacing the current leadership first."

"By war?" This was the first she'd heard of force being used in this mission outside of her abducting King Nicholas and Queen Mayfair. Her understanding had been that they were only to use violence against those who used religion to exploit others, not those who were sincerely duped by their religion.

"Only if absolutely necessary." She set the book aside. "Enough small talk. I gather that you were not successful in getting Cypress to ally with Sharland."

She nodded. "Hindel arrived before I could close the deal. I don't know how he pulls off those 'power of Iom' tricks, but his demon body stopped a bullet cold."

"You shot him?"

"I lost my temper. Besides, I had to do something to prove him a charlatan."

"Except you didn't prove that," Britta said sharply. "And now Hindel has the Sword of Hajya, doesn't he?"

"It would seem so. That is, Prince Eli has it, and he's now working with Hindel. But the Sword of Hajya has to be a false lead! The legend is based on the sword being made with the power of a god, and if a bullet can't harm Hindel, what good can a metal blade do?"

"Valeria." She leaned in close, a condescending expression on her face. "Myths very often have reality behind them. Has that not occurred to you? The Dread Plague was not a punishment sent by a god, as the religious texts claimed, but the fact remains that a lot of people died. And your orders were very specific, were they not? In the considered opinion of your superiors, the Sword of Hajya is the one thing which can harm Hindel while he's in Iom form. Were you not taking those orders seriously?"

Valeria lowered her head. "I took them seriously. It's just... I _wish_ the Sword of Hajya was just a trickster's prop. I wish there were no reality behind the myth. Because... Because I'm starting to fear that there's as much reality behind the myth as there is behind anything."

"What?"

"Why did my gunshot have no effect?" She looked up now. "Do we have a logical explanation for that, or are we just assuming that it was some bit of trickery, with no evidence, just by default because its the only thing that fits in with our beliefs? Hindel said some things to me – that we don't question our beliefs, or their consequences. Is that true?"

"We don't question basic logic," Britta said, looking down at her as though she were a child who had just disrupted the class to ask a question that had already been answered. "We don't question such obvious things as the fact that things always fall down and not up."

"If it's so obvious, so beyond question that there are no gods, then why do so many people believe otherwise? Can we really be sure on that point?"

"The fact that many people like to cling to happy fantasies does not threaten my certainty of plain truth."

"But there being no gods is the happy fantasy for you, isn't it?" Valeria returned. "The idea of a higher power frightens you at least as much as it frightens me."

"You're talking nonsense. Do you want to resign from the service? Is that what you're building up to?"

The suggestion caught her off-guard. "...No. I'm not saying that these cultists are right, just that we should question -"

"Good. Ordinarily I'd have you relieved of duty and sent for a mental examination right now, but with the situation being what it is, we need every person we can get, and you've at least proven to be reliable in the past."

"Could you bring me up to date? Which nations are on Iom's side now?"

"All of them." Britta held up a letter. "And I've just received word that Ruprick is dead."

"What? How?"

"I'm sure you heard that he was put in charge of Iom operations? Well, he took it upon himself to try to rouse the people against Hindel, and got lynched for his trouble. It seems word has spread that Hindel has been defending his people against invaders from another continent, converting foreigners to his faith, and conquering Emild and Sharland. In addition, Queen Gillian was canny enough to play Iom's military alliances with Cypress, Guardiana, and Tyber as steps forward in diplomatic relations with those nations. It was the worst possible time to try to convince people that General Hindel doesn't have the blessing of a god."

Valeria was astounded. "But surely, there must be people in Iom opposed to Hindel's warmongering!"

"No doubt. I'm sure the vast majority of people in Iom are gentle and peace-loving. But the vocal minority had its say. For more bad news," - she took out a letter - "...the latest communication I received from Jepper does not have the code we use, so he must have been captured. The letter arranges a meeting between King Saul and all of Kerinam's major operatives in Sharland. And one more piece of bad news." She took out another letter. "King Saul wrote to me to confirm the meeting, so that means he's gone over to Hindel's side."

"So... is there a way we can take advantage of this trap?"

"I think so, yes. We'll ask them to move the meeting to a public venue, and once there, we'll demonstrate to everyone how powerless Iom really is."

"A public venue? But our presence on this continent is still a secret, isn't it?"

"Past time we changed that! The people of Sharland, the entire world even, should know that they have an ally in their fight against Iom."

"Ah. That makes sense. So, how are you going to demonstrate...?"

"That," Britta said, "...is on a need-to-know basis."

Valeria nodded, but she suspected that ordinarily Britta would have trusted her with the information anyway. Her challenging of basic Kerinamese beliefs had not helped her standing.


	40. Chapter 40: The Nuclear Option

\- Chapter 40: The Nuclear Option-

King Saul stood at the north end of the plaza, surrounded by retainers and an ample supply of guards. Hindel and the Shining Force were concealed in a shop several paces behind the king. Queen Anri's company were similarly hidden at the west end of the plaza, while the Cypress and Emild forces had the east end covered. There was also, Hindel was fairly certain, an archer posted at the top of each of the two towers along the edges of the plaza. Queen Anri, Prince Eli, and Hindel had all sternly forbid this measure, due to the danger of the archers hitting people in the crowd, but Hindel had an inkling that Saul had gone ahead and posted them anyway.

That was why he had Adorn and Alric keeping a lookout in the towers, rather than with the group. If this confrontation went as planned, the whole war would be over, and Hindel had no intention of having that victory soiled by the deaths of innocents. A tower was a good position for Adorn to be in anyway.

"Do you think they suspect a trap?" Kellen asked.

"It's a possibility," Hindel answered. "We'll just have to hope that if they're smart enough to see it, they're arrogant enough to walk into it. We've come to the brink of pushing them off of this continent, so I think they're as eager as we are to bring this to an end. Likely eager enough to make careless mistakes."

"And if you're wrong?"

"I devoted three hours yesterday to praying to Iom that all would go well today. We can do no more. This plan is our best chance of ending this with minimal bloodshed."

That conversation might have gone further, but at that moment their quarry entered the plaza. At least, Hindel assumed they were their quarry, since he personally had never met them before. Two of them had been encountered by Iom's servants, and Iom told Hindel that they were high-ranking officers of Kerinam. Whether they were part of a group of Kerinam higher-ups walking into the trap or just leaders of a squad sent to disarm it was still uncertain, but things were looking good.

"Blessed Iom," Nancie quivered. "Look at... There are dozens of them!"

"A hundred, at the least," Kellen amended.

"The more there are, the greater the glory to Iom when we crussh them," Redgar said.

"Exactly," Hindel nodded. "I wouldn't look at this as a bad sign, either. Even if they believed the letters, it makes sense that they'd take the precaution of bringing a few extra guards in this situation."

"That's not a few extra guards," Kellen said. "That's a whole army."

The Kerinam entourage marched into the center of the plaza, their numbers dwarfing that of King Saul's group. If he was unsettled by this, though, he certainly didn't let it show. "Ah, Britta. Good of you to come," he said to her, then addressed the crowd. "People of Sharland, I realize there have been murmurs against me these past weeks, and for good reason. We have been at war with some of our oldest allies, and I have yet to give you a satisfactory explanation as to why. Even so, you all remained loyal to your king, and for that I think you. But I want to do more than that – I want to repay your faith in me. To begin with, I hereby declare that the war against Iom, Cypress, and Guardiana ended a week ago."

Ominously, the Kerinamese showed no reaction to this announcement, but Saul continued his speech without any change in tone or even perceptible pause.

"Second, I will give you the explanation you've waited for. These people here to meet with me are from Kerinam, a nation across the sea to the east. They came to conquer these lands, and used coercion to make me help them."

That got a reaction. "Liar!" Britta burst out. "You allied with us of your own will!"

"No, there was coercion, Britta. You weren't in on it, admittedly, but that was how Kerinam got me to partake in such a senseless war. I know that my people would take my word against yours in any case, but I also have Sharland's allies to attest to this. Speaking of whom, we have you surrounded, so it would be in your best interest to surrender."

"You think it will be as easy as that?!"

"I had hoped so, but no, my suspicion when I first saw how many armed soldiers you've brought here was that you were looking for a fight."

Hindel tensed. He'd been afraid things would take a turn like this. He readied himself to step in quick, to prevent anything like a repeat of what happened in Rebora.

"You're quite wrong in that guess as well. The soldiers are here merely to discourage any hostilities on your part. If your people want peace, they're better off standing with us."

"Oh, my people want peace, but not as much as they want our shores free of invaders."

"Enough," Hindel said, stepping forward. He approached Britta, willing the change over his body as he went. The reassurance of Iom's power was strong, but by now he had grown so accustomed to his role as Iom's chosen one that he no longer needed the change to make him feel close to his god. He knew the right thing to do even in fully human form. "Further battles are senseless. I could wipe out half of your soldiers right now with Demon Breath, and for what? You're fighting just to convince these people not to believe what they've seen with their own eyes, heard with their own ears, and felt with their own hearts. You can accept and embrace the truth for yourselves, or you can walk away with your lives. You have to realize by now that you can't win. Even if you could overcome us, you can't get past Iom's protection."

Britta shook her head, as if she'd just finished listening to a tirade by a wayward pupil. "You could not have possibly said anything more wrong. 'Iom's protection' is worthless. And we are here to demonstrate that." She took out an unfamiliar object and pointed it in the air. There was a hissing sound, then a sudden explosion of light and sound overhead. Everyone but the Kerinamese flinched, but Britta said, "That was just the signal. Look overhead."

Hindel looked. A squad of birdmen were flying west, carrying black objects roughly the size and shapes of barrels between them.

"Those objects are a bit beyond your comprehension – and _our_ comprehension, too, though we've been working on that. They were quite popular with an ancient civilization. We've dug up plenty to spare. The point is: Once our aerial crew drops one of those on a city, that city will be destroyed. Iom can do nothing to prevent that. To demonstrate the point, we are dropping one on the little town just a mile down the road. You'll be able to witness the destruction quite clearly from here. After that, of course, they'll move on to do the same thing to Iom's capital. Begof is good enough to show you how powerless Iom is, but to make the general public recognize you as a fraud, we need a more prominent target."

"An unusual bluff," Saul said. "But a bluff nonetheless."

"You'll see whether or not it's a bluff in just a few minutes."

Hindel had gone pale. Iom had told him enough about Kerinam for him to know that Britta was likely telling the truth. Moreover, going by the reactions of the Kerinamese, not all of them had known about her plan, or were happy about it now that they knew.

"Kellen! Adorn!" he called.

His comrades came to his side. "What do we do?" Kellen prompted.

"Can you use Egress to get me back there?"

"To Begof? Sure, within a few hundred feet. To the capital? We've traveled too far since we were last there. We'd make it maybe a third of the way back."

"What if you did it in multiple jumps? You know, just keep casting it?"

"Egress doesn't work that way. It only 'remembers' so far back."

It struck Hindel that Kellen and Adorn were fairly calm. Did they think Britta was bluffing? No; they would have objected to his going to Begof and the capital if that were the case. They were calm because they believed, without doubt, that he would handle the situation.

He wished that they could have that kind of faith in Iom. And at this particular moment, he wished he could have that kind of faith in himself.

"Alright," he said, walking back to the shop where the rest of the Shining Force were holed up. "Then we'll have to stop them all at Begof. It'll have to just be the three of us, too; I can't risk pulling any more than that away from this potential battlefield. Adorn, get Alric and tell him to regroup with the others at the shop. All of you," -he looked over Nancie, Bradford, and Redgar- "...try to prevent a fight if possible. If not, stay safe. We'll be back as quickly as possible."

He felt uncomfortable. He'd never left his comrades alone before – not in a situation like this. For the first time, it hit him that while his power as the Cloud of Iom was practically omnipotent, it was not omnipresent. He couldn't protect both the people in Begof and the capital and his friends and allies. For that matter, he wasn't even sure how to protect the people in Begof.

He just knew that he had to try. Not only for the sake of the countless innocent people in Begof and the capital. Whether or not the people of the world believed that Iom was there to protect them relied upon his saving them. It could be said that stopping those objects of destruction was the reason Iom had bestowed his power on him. Even now, the voice of Iom was screaming inside him to stop those weapons.

"Kellen," he said. "Now."

Kellen raised his hands. "Egress!"

Hindel, Kellen, and Adorn reappeared in the middle of the road they'd taken to the meeting with Kerinam. With a quick look around, Hindel spotted Begof, now very much closer.

"Come on," he ordered. Adorn and Kellen followed him into the heart of the city. Some people stopped and stared at them as they went, no doubt thinking Iom was still at war with them, but he had no time to assuage their fears. Kerinam's aerial force would be along any moment.

After a few minutes, he stopped and looked around. "Alright, this should be it."

"What are we doing?" Kellen asked.

"Adorn's going to take to the air and see how many of those mass murderers she can take down. You're going to find a good perch and try to give her some kind of covering fire, if you can. And I'm going to try putting my shield up over the entire town."

They nodded. Kellen turned to do as he was instructed, and Adorn spread her wings.

_That's it? No "But you've never made a shield anywhere near that big before"? No "But how do you know the shield will stop those weapons?" They just trust me to save them? Any of the others I would chalk it up to faith in Iom, but not Adorn. She just believes that I'll always fix everything. Maybe all of them believe that. It's not right._

Hindel had no doubt that Iom would do his part. His god was powerful beyond any mortal comprehension, and he would not hold back any of that power in protecting his people. But it was not only up to Iom. Iom had explained to him that the shield was sustained through Hindel's own will. If he didn't believe in himself, or if he faltered for even an instant in his desire to protect the people of Begof, the shield would fall.

There was no time to reflect on it. Kerinam's aerial forces were almost undoubtedly flying too high for any of his attacks to reach them. This was the best possible plan, so he might as well have some confidence that it would work.

Hindel let the change spread over his head, and Iom's closeness once more offered him some reassurance. He stretched out his arms, did his best to envision the entire town under Iom's protection, and manifested the azure blue shield.

It was there. It looked faded and fragile, but he told himself that that was probably just because it was so much more distant than any time he'd used it before. The shield had formed a dome over the entire town.

_And not a minute too soon._ The birdmen from Kerinam appeared in the sky. Once they were directly overhead, they signaled to each other, and one of them dropped his deadly cargo.

It impacted on the shield. Hindel fell to his knees with a scream of shock and pain. Even the mere sound of the explosion seemed to shake the foundations of the earth, to make blood gush out of his ears. And the force of the impact... It was as if the weight of an entire continent had just been dropped on his shoulders. He hadn't believed that Britta was bluffing, but this was far beyond what he had imagined. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to just let go of his shield.

Then he looked up and saw the people around him, some staring at him, undoubtedly wondering what in the world he was doing, but most unable to focus on anything but the cataclysmic explosion that had just occurred over their heads. It was hard to tell exactly what they were feeling – hard, it occurred to him now, to ever tell exactly what anyone was feeling. But that didn't matter. It mattered only that they were feeling it... that they were people. People Iom had charged him to protect. How unforgivable would it be if all their lives were lost, simply because he had indulged in a moment of weakness?

He stood back up. The birdmen above were looking at the site of the explosion with obvious confusion. But after signaling to each other again, another one dropped his load.

This one was worse than the first. Hindel had thought he'd steeled himself for it, but the first one had sapped much of his strength, and what he had left was barely enough to keep the shield from shattering. His legs shook, but somehow he remained standing. He did not scream this time, but only because he seemed to have no strength left to scream.

He held on, kept the shield up, even as it felt like nails were being driven through the pores of his body. Another explosion hit, and for all Hindel's determination, this time the shield perceptibly flickered.

_Iom,_ he prayed, _help me._

The Kerinamese looked more than confused now; they looked profoundly afraid. They dropped their explosives on the shield with a sort of desperate frustration, as if hoping against logic that the godly power standing against them would suddenly prove to be a simple trick. Hindel held on, every part of his body and mind erupting with agony at each explosion. With one bomb still left, they finally gave up this method, and flew back the way they came.

But Adorn was there, and she had no intention of allowing them a chance to use that remaining bomb on another town. She dived into the birdman carrying it and grappled with him to get it. After a moment, he lost his grip, and it fell onto the shield.

Hindel gasped with this final impact, almost too much for him to take. He crashed face-first to the ground, but even so, the shield... held.

A few moments later he felt Kellen's hands on his shoulders, pulling him up. "Hindel...?"

"...I'm fine," he managed, pulling himself to his feet. "Get us back to the plaza, now."

"But you're-"

"Hurry!"

"I can't. Egress works only backwards, not forwards. We'll just to walk back there again."

"Oh. Right." He chuckled slightly at his own absentmindedness. "But the others may not be able to hold on long enough for us to walk back. Adorn, I hate to ask this, but fly me back."

Adorn nodded, and stepped behind him to grab hold.

And in short order, they had returned to the square. As Adorn came down for a landing, Hindel was relieved to see that Britta had apparently held off her troops until the outcome of the attack on Begof could be seen. There were no dead bodies, no fighting, just the Kerinamese staring in disbelief. They would not have seen Hindel in Begof, of course, and perhaps even the shield was not visible from that distance, but the massive explosions taking place well above the town was a sight they did not miss.

Hindel looked at Britta, weary from the ordeal, but satisfied, and said, "It is finished."

There was a moment of silence. Then a woman stepped out from the Kerinamese and approached him. Hindel recognized Valeria from the confrontation at Castle Cypress.

"Valeria!" Britta snapped.

"You may be too afraid to admit it, Britta, but I am not." Valeria knelt at Hindel's feet. "There is a god."

_I gave up on the Kerinamese too easily,_ Hindel realized. _It didn't affect my actions, thank Iom, but I gave up on them too easily. Just like my own people, some are too stubborn to ever change their ways, but __some__ grasp the truth as soon as they see it._

"And he is a god who protects," Valeria continued, tears now running down her face. "We were the ones who came to kill. Only we."

Hindel willed the change over his body, returning to human form. Bending down, he reached out a hand to wipe the tears from Valeria's eyes.


	41. Chapter 41: Iom's Plan

Author's notes:

Here we are, the final chapter. This novel is considerably longer than I intended it to be, yet there are a number of subplots that I didn't explore as much as I'd planned to. There's still an epilogue coming, so if you have a particular subplot which you'd like followed up, mention it in a review within the next two weeks and I'll include its resolution with the two scenes I already have planned.

\- Chapter 41: Iom's Plan -

The conference was ended. The Kerinamese representatives filed out one entrance, everyone else went out the other. As Prince Eli stepped out, Hindel caught his arm.

"Prince Eli," Hindel said. "Are you satisfied?"

"Not until my parents are returned to us."

"I promised you that they would be."

"After what you did when we first met, I am not exactly inclined to trust you. And if you wanted someone to pass over your treacheries and indiscretions with a smile, then I don't understand why you're talking to me and not my sister."

Hindel smiled uncertainly. "Your sister is a wonderful person. But after what's happened between us, I'd like us to part on good terms."

"Why?" Eli sounded bored. "We're not likely to see each other ever again. What difference does it make whether or not we get along now?" Hindel didn't immediately respond. Eli sniffed with gentle amusement. "You're an odd one."

"But that's the very reason why it's important to me," Hindel protested. "Things didn't happen between us the way I would have liked, and if we leave it like that now, we'll never have another chance to make them right. I..." He thought of the way he'd left home, of his siblings. He thought of his parents. "...I don't like having to live with that."

Eli shook his head. "That's an interesting way of looking at it, I'll give you that. But I don't dwell on the past. And to the extent that I look back on it, I'll actually take pleasure in knowing I never made friends with the man who used my parents as hostages. Now, if you'll excuse me, if what you've said is true, my parents are being set free now, and I would like to see them as soon as possible."

The prince turned and was gone.

Hindel felt a lump in his throat. He knew it didn't really matter; he and Eli never even really knew each other. There was nothing substantial lost. But after losing his parents, his brothers, and his sisters, he wished he could have at least one victory.

* * *

Hindel hadn't lied. Eli's parents were waiting at the city's gates. He embraced his mother in silence and tears.

He was wondering how he was going to even face his father, but while he had not yet let go of his mother, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder and gently pulled him away. "It's good to see you again, Eli."

"Hello, father." Eli wanted to meet his gaze, but could not make himself raise his eyes that far. "I'm relieved to see you are well."

"I am relieved to _be_ well." His father smiled. "I'm told that you did reasonably well in my absence."

Now he really couldn't raise his eyes. "No, father, I didn't. I got myself and my friends captured by Iom's general. Even after someone freed us, I couldn't defeat him, and I couldn't find you and Mom. Judith handled all of Cypress's domestic affairs, and General Hindel defeated Kerinam. I was useless."

"I didn't say you don't have room for improvement. Certainly, even taking into account your inexperience, there are things you should have done better, and we'll need to step up your studies. But using yourself and your friends to spring General Hindel's trap was the right move, and even if it was a third party who opened your cells, escaping from Iom's dungeon was no mean feat. You delegated diplomacy to the Cypressians most capable in that field. You kept word of our abduction from getting out, preventing a panic. All in all, you did quite a bit better than I feared you would."

"Thank you, father." He could scarcely believe it. His father was never one to give him undeserved praise, or even deserved praise. Was it because this time he had performed the duties of a king under real conditions, instead of just training? Whatever the case, he couldn't imagine his father was being dishonest. He had to hide it, but he was bursting with pride.

"I know that it must have been especially difficult under the circumstances. Said circumstances being not too far removed from what I went through when I was but a few years younger than you."

"I was alright. I was worried about you and mother, of course, but I wasn't afraid for myself." Not entirely true, but close enough.

"Good." His father looked at him square. "We do still need to step up your training. If you don't mind, I believe it might help if I personally instructed you whenever my schedule permits it. Besides, I would like to spend a bit more time with you."

"I... would like that." It was true. He had to admit, after all that complaining about his father not wanting to spend time with them, the idea of actually having to train and converse with him man-to-man was daunting, even a bit frightening. Nonetheless, he wanted to at least try it. He wanted to try to confirm his suspicions that underneath his kingship, his discipline, and his cold contemplation, his father was also a human being.

"Excellent. Shall we set off for home, then?"

His mother nodded. "There are things we could tend to here in Sharland, but nothing that would justify leaving the people of Cypress without their king, queen, and heir for any longer."

They had a wagon waiting for them. Farrel was there, and waved at him with a smile.

Eli got on board first. As he did, Mayfair turned to Nick and whispered, "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

* * *

Anri set her crown down on its pillow. "Isn't there anything that might convince you to stay, Adam?" Oddly, she found herself having to control the emotion in her voice. Adam was her only remaining connection to Max. "I am queen, you know. I can arrange for you to have most anything you desire."

"My only desire is to follow my prime directive," Adam answered. "Since returning to Guardiana, I have found two new secondary directives: to protect you, Your Majesty, and to end any destructive use of the technology of the Ancients. The first directive has been fulfilled. The second must be accomplished in Kerinam."

"You are sure that I no longer need your protection?" she prodded.

"No. That would be impossible. I know only that no established threats to Your Majesty's life remain. Even if Lady Ellen was involved in the assassination attempt upon you, she has no reason to seek your life now that you have have definitively named your heir. I have done several systematic searches of the castle grounds and confirmed that no more Kerinamese are present. According to all known variables, you are safe."

"So you're going to Kerinam to fight those there who abuse the relics of the Ancients? All by yourself?"

"No. I intend to assemble a team of heroes to help me accomplish my task. Max and I did the same thing to stop Mishaela in Parmecia."

"I would enjoy having your company here."

"And I would take satisfaction in providing you company. However, following my prime directive always comes first."

Anri nodded. "I understand. I could offer to come with you, as well, but serving my people as queen always comes first. We both have duties that cannot be put aside." After hesitating a moment, she reached out and laid a hand on Adam's mechanical arm. "Well, then... Goodbye. I wish you luck on your quest."

"Goodbye, Queen Anri. It has been a true honor serving you, just as it was the first time."

As Adam incongruously stomped his mechanical legs out of the royal chamber, Ruce peeked his head in. "Do you have a moment for me now, Your Majesty?"

Anri raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're going to object to my choice for heir now."

"Kind of the opposite, actually. You looked a bit disconsolate after that announcement. I wanted to tell you that if you're having second thoughts, you should throw them aside."

"I don't need you to tell me that. I'm thoroughly embarrassed by how many times I've changed my heir as it is. This is my fourth attempt, isn't it? First it was you, then Ellen, then Lord Andrew, and now we have finally arrived at Lady Ellis."

"Must be a record," Ruce grinned. "But it's not just that. I think this time you've made a choice good enough to stick with."

"You're implying that I hadn't done so before."

"You agree with that, don't you? Lord Andrew was the perfect choice for a temporary heir while we settled the problem with Kerinam, but setting up that niece of his to be ruler a few decades down the line would have been regrettable. Lady Ellen had her good qualities, but it's like you told her: Whether or not she was actually complicit in your attempted assassination, she created a situation where people would stand to gain power from your death. You couldn't in good conscience hand the throne over to someone so irresponsible. As for me, well, you saw how the crowd reacted when you named me your heir."

"Lady Ellen might have arranged that crowd reaction."

Ruce shook his head. "I think you know that's not true. She could have bought a few people, but that whole crowd? People don't want a dwarf monarch."

"They should," Anri said, anger creeping into her voice. "And I shouldn't have given in. I should have stood up for what's right, and made them accept the right ruler for Guardiana, not just one with an acceptable bloodline."

"You need to be more patient, Your Majesty. One day people will be ready to look beyond royal bloodline for worthiness in a ruler. Today is simply not that day."

"That's nonsense. You don't make social change by just waiting around for it to happen by itself. Social change only happens when you _do something_ to make it happen." Her eyes narrowed. "You must know that. You just don't want the responsibility of being king."

To her displeasure, Ruce grinned. "Guilty as charged. And you make a good point about needing to do things to change the nation. The thing of it is, though, you _did_ go back on your decision to name me your heir, and you wouldn't have done that without good reason."

"That is the worst of it." She looked away. "I've recovered a lot of my strength since I stopped taking in that poison, but I'm still an old woman, Ruce. I can't be certain that I'll live out another year, much less long enough to get people to accept the idea of a dwarf king. And if I die without people fully accepting my heir, Guardiana could fall into civil war. ...I can't allow that. No matter what the benefit, I can't take that chance."

"Well. Good choice," Ruce bowed. "But don't go digging a grave for yourself just yet, Your Majesty. I have a feeling we're going to get a few more years out of you yet."

The suggestion neither pleased nor displeased her. Queen Anri saw no joy in living out the rest of a reign that was past its prime, with no family and fewer of her friends than she would have liked. But she was accustomed to bearing the load she bore, and she had more than enough energy to bear it a while longer.

* * *

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty!"

Nick was walking through the castle hall when he heard Alisa calling. He stopped and turned. "Yes, my lady?"

She bowed her head. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty, but I've been trying to speak to you privately ever since you came back."

"I am not disturbed. However, I give audiences regularly, and am open to petitions of any sort, so I don't know why you would feel you need to speak to me in private."

"It's about Eli, Your Majesty."

Nick nodded. "Meet me in the library in an hour."

He didn't suspect any conspirators in the castle at present, but all the same, he would rather not risk anyone noticing a meeting between him and Lady Alisa.

He came to the library a half hour early; he had business there anyway, which is why he'd chosen it for their meeting. He found the census records and picked out the oldest volume. It had enough dust topping the upper edges of its pages to be sure it hadn't been touched in years. He sat down and opened it up.

By the time Alisa had pulled up a chair across from him, he'd already gotten most of the figures he needed from that particular volume. He glanced up at her, and gave a sigh of exasperation. "Get a book for yourself," he murmured to her. "I asked you to come here so that it wouldn't be obvious that we're having a private discussion."

She looked befuddled for a moment, then got up to do as he said. _I doubt I'll ever understand what my son sees in that __addlebrained__ woman._

Alisa came back with a book of political theory. Nick sighed again; no one who knew her would believe she was really reading that. But asking her to get up a second time was likely to draw attention.

"I did as you said," Alisa whispered to him. He waited. "I know it seems like I didn't... You knew Eli and I were together to begin with, so I suppose you must know that we're together now. That he has been courting me, I mean. But believe me, I did break up with him." She paused, then said in a louder whisper, "Can you hear me?"

"I hear you," he whispered back. "Frankly, I wouldn't mind if your voice was a notch or two quieter. I'll comment when I need to."

She nodded, looking a bit intimidated. "The very next day after I broke up with him, he visited me again and apologized, as if our breakup were his fault. He was so desperate to have me back, and so certain that he would... I just couldn't turn him away, Your Majesty. It was hard enough doing it the first time. I hadn't realized how attached he had already become to me. And I hadn't realized how attached I had become to him. I... don't think I could stand to cause him such pain again. You must tell him that he cannot see me anymore."

Nick flipped a page in his book. "What sense is there in that? That would cause him the same pain, plus the pain of having his father standing between him and the woman he loves."

Alisa wiped at the tears coming slowly from her eyes. "I am a weak person, Your Majesty," she said hoarsely. "Even knowing it would save him pain in the end, I can't bring myself to do it. You're much stronger than I. It's up to you."

He was running a finger down the page. "I've heard that you were of considerable help to my son while I was gone."

"Oh, no. He asked me for advice, but I just came up with bad ideas that he immediately dismissed." She frowned. "How did you hear about anything happening between us while you were gone? We kept our meetings private, as we always have."

"You should know by now that you can't keep secrets from me." If it were Eli he were talking to, he would have owned up that he had enlisted Alisa's servant, Kathryn, as a spy, but this was Alisa. Even such a simple deduction was beyond her. "The ideas you gave Eli may have been useless of themselves, but they provided the impetus for Eli to make his own decisions. Before he spoke to you, he didn't know what to do."

"I don't understand. How could a bad idea from me give him a good idea?"

"I don't fully understand it, either. Perhaps, being presented with a suggestion which he knows is wrong gives him more confidence and helps him narrow down which path is the right one. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that it works."

"I suppose so." Then, as if suddenly remembering what they'd discussed: "But what does this matter? You're going to tell Eli to break up with me, aren't you?"

"It matters, lady Alisa, because I'm convinced I was wrong to object to a union between you and my son. I don't know if you would be the best possible queen for him, but I'm certain that you would serve your purpose just fine. If you want my son to stop courting you, you'll have to tell him yourself."

Alisa started. "I didn't mean... Your Majesty, it isn't that I want to stop seeing Eli! I just want what's best for him, not just what's best for myself, like you told me I should!"

Nick was starting to wish he had had Mayfair deal with this. She had a teacher's patience, whereas he could only pretend to it. But it was too late to back away. "I think you should consider, as I have been, the possibility that Eli knows what is best for himself better than you or I do. Even if he does not, I think it better to leave the decision in his hands."

"But if I make him unhappy..." She looked at him helplessly.

"Simply do everything you can to make him happy while you are with him," he said in a gentle, coaxing voice. "That is all anyone can do for their husband or wife, assuming the two of you are eventually wed. Another woman might not even try. I am confident you will do fine, and if you do run into trouble, Queen Mayfair and I will always be happy to help you. Mind you, given how Eli feels for you, I think it more than likely you will make him very happy indeed."

"Thank you," she said. She still looked a little unsure of herself, but Nick expected that would pass with a little time. After all, she had never doubted the rightness of her relationship with Eli until Nick himself had spoken to her about it.

"Well, think on it," he said, and closed his book. "I have other business to attend to. Do keep in mind that whatever struggles Eli may face in his relationship with you, it would be difficult for them to surpass the unhappiness he would feel at losing you."

He stood up and left the library.

* * *

General Hindel walked out onto the terrace, and in a sense he would not walk away from it.

A huge crowd was gathered below, and while he wished that they were all gathered there for Iom, he knew that some of them at least were there primarily for him. He didn't like that – neither the weight of it, nor the irreverence to their god. But he forgave it. He'd been impatient with them once, but Iom had taught him better.

He held out a hand to hush the crowd. "People of Iom," he began. "It has been my honor to serve you as general. I know that some of you disapprove of the things I've done in that role, and even those of you with the faith to support everything done for the good of Iom must find some of my actions mystifying. Or would find them mystifying, if you knew about them. I... don't really know how much any of my deeds have become public knowledge."

He was floundering, he realized, but did not let it bother him. The war was already won; he had no more real need to hide his weaknesses.

"I told people that this war of conquest was meant to expand Iom's realm. That was a lie, told to intimidate and mislead our enemies. The truth is that your king and queen are lovers of peace and justice, and have no desire to take on the subjugation of foreign lands that would undoubtedly be in a state of constant rebellion against us. Nor do I believe that doing so would be of advantage to our god. This conquest was intended only to unify the nations against Kerinam, a nation that sought to do away with our god. Now that that is accomplished, we have withdrawn our troops. Those of you who are disappointed by this can take consolation in how much our standing among the nations has increased because of it. We are no longer the downtrodden, defeated nation we were after the war with Cypress.

"The next point..." He hesitated. "...is my parents. I don't think most of you know about what I did with them, so I'll just tell the whole thing from the beginning.

"Before I became a general, before I became a priest, even before I first heard Iom's voice, I had a recurring dream. In this dream I forced my parents onto an altar and sacrificed them to Iom. At first, I didn't know what it meant. If it was a vision of the future, or a message from Iom, then why would Iom want me to murder my own parents? So at first I chalked the dream up to my own unconscious desires.

"But when I began my mission for Iom in earnest, I realized the truth. The dream I had was a message from Iom after all – it just wasn't meant literally.

"I sacrificed my parents to Iom. Not by killing them, but by doing something to them that they would not be able to forgive, that would forever cut me off from their love. I put them under a spell of sleep, to only be awakened when I had accomplished Iom's plan. My parents and I share a strong sense of right and wrong, but as you all know, we differ with regard to our god. They blame the tragic fate of my uncle, after whom I was named, on Iom. Because of this, they would never have stood for calling upon our god to protect us from Kerinam. They would have tried to stop me, gone in against impossible odds instead, and unintentionally brought ruin down upon us. To accomplish Iom's will, I had to stop them.

"I know that I did the right thing, but I also understand how my parents will feel about it. If they had done the same thing to me, so that they could fight Kerinam without Iom's help, I would not have forgiven them. I could forgive them for doing that to me, but not for doing it to Iom. And not for doing it to you, my fellow Iomites. So I do not expect them to forgive me for doing it, all the more so because they could have stopped me any time during my childhood, and did not, for love of me. The heroes who liberated you from King Warderer are alive. But for me, it is as if they are dead.

"For too long, we've limited ourselves to just the sacrifices of life that Iom needs to sustain himself. As essential as those are, we can do more for our god. We can sacrifice things that mean far more to us than the animals whose blood we spill on the altar. We can do things that show not only our devotion to Iom, but our love for him."

He let a pause fall – not so long as to make them think he was done talking, but long enough, he hoped, that they would appreciate the significance of what he had said. "There is one other sacrifice I made for Iom, and that was taking up the role of a warrior. I have never enjoyed violence. Now that I have accomplished Iom's mission, I am resigning from my post as general. Officially, I will hold the post until King Amelo has named a replacement, in case Iom must go to war in the interim, but I do not expect that will happen. Though Iom may need me to again be a warrior one day, for now I want to finally be a priest of Iom. It's the only thing I've ever wanted. I hope you all can accept that." He felt tears rising in his eyes, but they were not heavy enough to fall. "I will always be there for you. That is what Iom chose me for. To serve him by serving you."

Hindel stepped away from the terrace. It had been a long speech, but he felt all of it needed to be said. And of course there was more, things he couldn't say, such as how, when he'd first started out, he'd been angry and disgusted with them all for abandoning Iom. Even now, he felt a profound warmth at the recognition that he'd been wrong to feel that way. Not everyone had been converted back to the faith, and undoubtedly there were many who never would, but enough hearts had been changed to prove that no one deserved his condemnation, that everyone deserved a chance.

His friends were waiting for him. With them were his brothers. Redgar had his hands firmly clamped on Dusty's arms, while Bradford held Josh. Josh scowled at Hindel as he approached. "I can't believe you actually fed them that load of dung."

"They were running out there to interrupt your speech," Alric explained to Hindel.

"Thanks for stopping them," Hindel said. "But it's over, so you can let them go now."

Redgar and Bradford did as he said. "First of all," Josh said, his glare unbroken. "_Iom_ saved us from Kerinam? Yeeeeaaaahhhh, no. Not by himself. Without you -"

"I'm just Iom's instrument, Josh."

"Jeez, let me finish, huh? It wasn't _just_ you and Iom. Do you really not know what those Kerinam jerks were doing while you were in Begof? They had a backup, you jerk. They had another explosive hidden under the plaza, and they were going to blow the whole town up if you stopped them at Begof. They were going to blow themselves up just to prove how powerless Iom is. All your allies were going to be dead. The only reason King Saul and Queen Anri and everyone, including your stupid Iom-worshipping buddies here, aren't dead right now is because while you were saving everyone in Begof, I stole _this_ from Britta." Josh reached into his pocket and pulled out a black box with two buttons and a wire coming out of it. Holding it up to Hindel, he grinned. "Without this, she couldn't set off the explosive. You'd have to agree this proves that thieving can be a good thing, huh?"

"Shut up, Josh," Dusty snapped.

His grin only got wider. "Truth hurts, bro."

Hindel took the black box and looked at it, and Josh, for a few moments in silence. Then he looked to his friends. "You were all there, except Adorn and Kellen. Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Alric, after scratching the back of his neck for a moment, opened his mouth to speak. But Nancie cut him off, in a characteristically soft voice, "I asked everyone not to say anything to you about it."

Hindel waited. "Alright. I repeat: Why?"

"I was afraid you would think it changes things, that it means it wasn't really Iom who saved us. I didn't... I didn't want anything to hurt your faith."

He shook his head. "But it _was_ still Iom who saved us. If Begof and the capital were destroyed, all those people would be dead whether or not Britta had a backup. And Joshua wouldn't have been there, or learned how to pick a pocket for that matter, if I hadn't done what Iom told me to do."

"Oh, come _on!_" Josh railed. "You really think the things I did were all part of Iom's plan?"

"It's self-evident that they were," Hindel returned, but his voice was gentle. "Of course Iom didn't plan for them. He'd have told me ahead of time if he had, and it stands to reason that he couldn't know what you would decide when I asked you to help me. But there's a difference between planning for something and having something be part of your plan. Iom told me to gather as many allies as I could to defeat Kerinam. He knew that not even his chosen servant could do everything on his own."

"We're not your 'allies'; we're your brothers!"

"I know," he smiled, and laid a hand on Josh's shoulder. "And I know that's the only reason why you trusted me, and helped me. I'll never forget it, Josh."

"Okay, stop." Josh was actually turning red and looking down.

"Anyway, that's hardly the only lie you delivered in that speech," Dusty put in. "There's the matter of our parents."

Hindel frowned. "Are you saying they haven't awakened?"

"Wouldn't you know?" Josh said with a raised eyebrow.

"All I did was release the enchantment I put on them. I don't need to be near them to do that."

"Because being near them again is one thing you want to avoid, isn't it? No, I'm sure they've woken up, if you say so," Dusty said, putting a tongue-in-cheek emphasis on those last four words. "Though it would be nice to have them right here so we could confirm it. The lie I'm talking about is you having sacrificed their love. You know as well as we do that our parents will love you no matter what you do."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"You're really going to pretend that you know them that little? Even if you had gone ahead with your conquest of the continent and made yourself Iom's evil ruler of the world, they'd still love all their children. That's who they are."

Hindel wasn't so sure of that. He knew how much his late uncle and maternal grandparents meant to his mother and father. To forgive anyone who associated with the god they blamed for their deaths would be to diminish their love for them. But he said only, "What about you, Dusty?"

For a moment he didn't answer. "I don't know. I know that I shouldn't love you. You serve an evil god. You had our siblings and me locked up. But do I? I don't know."

Hindel thought that Dusty willingly admitting that to him was indication enough of the answer, but he opted not to say so. It would only make Dusty angry. "So you two came here just to interrupt my speech?"

"No. I also wanted to give you fair warning. Whether you're my brother or no, whether you call yourself a general or a priest, I'm not going to stop fighting against you and what you stand for."

"I never thought you would." He paused a moment, then added, "Not that I'm going to ever give up on you."

"The same to you." Dusty gave a nod. "Goodbye, Hindel." His eyes turned upon Redgar. "There's no need to escort us out."

Redgar looked at Hindel for confirmation. Hindel nodded, "They'll be fine."

Dusty walked away. Josh followed after him, but after a few steps he turned and looked back. His eyes met Hindel's, and he didn't think such an honest look had ever passed between them. There was silence, but not an uncomfortable one.

"Jacey really misses you," Josh said. Hindel just nodded. Josh turned again and ran to catch up with Dusty.

As Hindel watched them go, a hand fell upon his shoulder. It was Alric.

"About not telling you what your little brother did," he said. "We weren't trying to protect you. We all knew you could handle it, except Nancie. We just didn't want to upset her."

Hindel nodded. "I wouldn't have believed... that she thought my faith was so fragile."

"Still wondering if she loves you?"

"A little, I guess. I've moved beyond feeling like I need her. Now I'm mainly just concerned about her. Iom is as important to her as he is to me, and unlike me, she doesn't have his voice to reassure her any time she has doubts."

"None of us but you have that advantage, so far as we know."

"That thought had occurred to me. One more reason to be patient with people who lack faith." He looked Alric in the eye. "My job isn't done yet. I've done all that I needed to do, and with Iom's favor I'll never have to make war again, but so long as I'm alive, Iom will have work for me. There is so much more to be done for his glory."

Alric clasped him by the arm. "I'll be with you, all the way."


	42. Epilogue: Acceptance

\- Epilogue: Acceptance -

"Abigail, daughter of Irena, do you give your life to Iom?"

The young woman, just barely old enough to undergo the rite, answered, "With all my heart."

Hindel looked her in the eyes and said to her, "Iom thanks you for your sacrifice. He also tells me that in him is a friend who looks forward to being reunited with you."

Her eyes widened hopefully. "Sharon?"

Hindel nodded, and there was a great murmuring in the congregation. He hadn't expected this reaction, but in an instant he realized the reason for it: No priest had ever had the ability to speak with Iom. Hindel had told her what Iom said on instinct, just because it was relevant to her, but on reflection he realized how miraculous it was for those sacrificed to Iom to receive such assurances. The shrine was full of devotees come to witness Hindel perform his first human sacrifice, and he had no doubt that the witness of this wonder would bring still more believers to the shrines.

But such thoughts could not be allowed to interrupt the rite. Hindel raised his hands and intoned, "Levitate."

Abigail ascended a few inches into the air - but that was all. A man darted up to the altar, grabbed her by the arm, crying "Stop!", and pulled her back down.

It was his father.

And his mother was there with him, leaping up onto the altar. Abigail struggled with Deanna, protesting, "Let me go! Didn't you hear me - I want to give my life to Iom!"

"Your life is not yours to just give away!" Natasha reprimanded her. "It is a gift, given to you by your parents and our creator!"

"What are you doing?!" Hindel demanded, horrified. "This is a sacred rite!"

"For an unholy god!" His mother whirled on him, and Hindel didn't think he'd ever seen her so angry. "A rite where you take a girl's life, while telling her things about the afterlife that may not even be true!"

"Iom never lies! Especially not to me. Abigail's death will be painless, and her unification with Iom will be joyous."

"You can't know that!" She looked towards the congregation now. "Not even Iom can know that! Have none of you considered that because Iom is a god - an eternal being - there is no way for him to ever understand what it means to die! He has no way of appreciating what people suffer when they are sacrificed to him, or the suffering of the loved ones they leave behind!"

"Get off of the altar." Hindel willed the transformation up as far as his shoulders. "Don't make me hurt you. Please."

Deanna looked at his mother. "Natasha," he said, but Hindel couldn't say for sure if it was an imperative or a question.

Natasha turned and looked into Deanna's eyes. "We're not leaving here without her."

"Oh yes, you are!" Abigail objected, still struggling to break Deanna's grip.

"Natasha, we can't force her to come with us. Even if we did, someone else in the congregation would volunteer to be his first human sacrifice. We can't do any good here."

She cast one more glance at Abigail, then looked back to Deanna. She wiped the tears from her face and said, "...You're right."

Deanna let Abigail go and took Natasha's arm. Together they walked off the altar. They did it in apparent defeat, but Hindel already read confusion on many faces in the congregation. Everyone knew of his parents' opposition to human sacrifice, of course, but it was still disconcerting to see the nation's heroes violently interrupting a holy ceremony to try to snatch the sacrifice off the altar. Most would simply wonder what was the matter with Deanna and Natasha, and leave it at that. Some, however, would see their words and actions as an inescapable contradiction to their faith, and conclude that Deanna and Natasha were not really the heroes that rumors made them out to be. A select few chose the other way of reconciling that contradiction, and walked out.

The chamber was again occupied only by the faithful, but the awkward silence remained. Hindel considered.

"Would you greatly mind," he asked Abigail, "...if we postponed the sacrifice until tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "Today feels... tainted by what just happened, anyway. I'm sorry that you have to have parents like that."

"Don't be. Without them, I wouldn't exist." He said loudly, for the entire congregation to hear, "The ceremony is postponed until tomorrow. Any of you who are visitors to this city and still wish to attend, guest rooms will be provided for you here in the shrine."

He got off the altar and strode out. It was rather a rushed way of closing the ceremony, even in light of how it had been rudely interrupted, but Hindel needed to speak to his parents and he wasn't betting on them sticking around long.

When he got out into the hall, as he'd feared, his parents were nowhere to be seen. He was still intent on catching up to them, though. It was a safe bet that they were leaving the shrine, so he headed in the direction of the exit.

He turned a corner to find his father walking back towards him. Their eyes met. Understanding, Hindel made a gesture for his father to follow him.

They stepped into Hindel's priestly quarters at the shrine. Hindel shut the door behind them. The room wasn't large - half the floor space was taken up by Hindel's bed, desk, nightstand, and Iom statue - but it would suffice for two people to have a simple conversation.

Hindel looked at his father. "Dad," he said, "...you can't do things like that."

"I know."

"In fact, you _don't_ do things like that. Human sacrifices have been going on in Iom since before I was born, and you and Mom have never interrupted a holy service to stop one before now. The only conclusion I can draw is that that outburst just now had to do with _me_, and if that's the case then you really do owe those people an apology, not that you wouldn't anyway. Inflicting our family squabbles on other people is wrong."

"It's not quite that simple. You're right; we've never interrupted a human sacrifice before, but only because we knew it wouldn't do any good, and because we realized that far more people are dying from starvation... than from being sacrificed to Iom. And we've always done everything we could to stop human sacrifice, short of actually interrupting the ceremony." He stopped to rub at the back of his head, but Hindel waited, knowing his father was often a slow talker. "Your mother and I came here to talk to you, but when we heard you would be performing your first human sacrifice... your mother said we had to stop it."

Hindel nodded. "Mom never did understand."

"No, I... I'm not laying the responsibility at her feet. It's just... your mother is a very emotional person." He said this with deep fondness. "She has a hard time keeping her feelings inside... and I'm the opposite. I have a hard time showing my feelings. But we both have the same feelings... most of the time. That's why we get all along so well." He shook himself. "But my point is, even though we wouldn't have interrupted the ceremony if it weren't you, it wasn't really about you. It was about a person being killed."

"By her own choice. And much as I appreciate you defending Mom, she really doesn't understand. Otherwise she'd be talking to me right now, with you. She'd have talked to me before the ceremony started instead of defiling this shrine."

"That was just bad timing. We heard about the human sacrifice in just barely enough time to get here. And she did want to talk to you... just as much as I did. I convinced her it would be a bad idea. She's too emotionally worked up right now... I was afraid it would start a fight."

That was a good point. "So you promise that this won't happen again?"

His father nodded. "I promise."

"How did the both of you come here together, anyway? Who's watching the little ones?"

"Believe it or not, Dust agreed to look after them for a few days." His father looked thoughtful. "It was strange. We assumed we'd have to ask a neighbor, but while we were talking about it Dust... just suddenly appeared, the way he does... and volunteered. It was... as if he actually wanted... to be with them for a few days."

"Does Dust even know how to take care of children?" He couldn't keep the worry out of his voice, even as he knew it was ridiculous to think his parents would leave his little siblings in untrustworthy hands.

"He must know how to cook, or he wouldn't have survived this long. At the least, he can keep them safe. Amy's old enough now to handle most of the usual babysitting responsibilities, so that's all he really needs to do."

Dust. Hindel had never found out where he'd gone off to while Josh, Dusty, and Jacinda were pursuing him. It was reassuring to hear that he was still around. He wondered if Dust would be as forgiving of what he had done as his parents were. Probably not, but it wouldn't be enough for Dust to betray his mission to protect all of his old master's nieces and nephews.

"Anyway... We did want to talk to you for a reason..." Though his father fumbled in his wording, his tone was firm with conviction. "We wanted to tell you that what you did was wrong."

"You came all this way to tell me that that's what you think? I knew that's what you'd think. That's why I cast the spell on you in the first place."

Deanna sighed. "Hindel, there are ways we could have beaten Kerinam without turning this country into a war machine in service to Iom."

"Which is one of the reasons why those ways are not as good as the one I chose. Because people all over the continent witnessed Iom's victory, faith in him is greater, more widespread than ever. This was Iom's plan for us." He left a pause. "Also, it's the only way which was more likely to work than not."

"...Iom may be our god, but... this is too much. All he really needs is a few animal sacrifices... the number of people who will be killed because of this..."

"No, father. Iom is our god, so it is our moral duty to serve him. There are no 'but's."

"Isn't it possible that you only think that because Iom spoke it to you? Remember, I've heard his voice, too; I know how persuasive it is."

"What if that is the reason?" Hindel held his hands out to the sides. "Do you think I am a mental cripple because I hear and heed the voice of our god? Let me tell you this: I feel sorry for the people who don't have the relationship with our god that I do. People for whom Iom does not open their ears that they may hear, or worse, who have rebelled and turned back from his word. No matter how difficult things have been for me, I have always had Iom at my side, his sheltering wings over me. Iom doesn't have all of the answers, but just to have his voice always there, answering whenever I call, has been my greatest comfort and reassurance. And the truths I've heard from Iom are more trustworthy than any that I, or any other mere mortal, have come to on our own. So long as I can share even a small part of that with others, I will do everything in my power to accomplish that."

At that, Hindel ended, and let his arms fall to his sides. "I'm sorry if that came out like a sermon. I am a priest."

"It's fine," his father said, a loving smile venturing onto his mouth. "However you phrased it, what you said... is your true feelings. However we may feel about what you've done, we're proud of you for not compromising on those feelings, just as we're proud of you for saving everyone from the Kerinamese."

For a moment, Hindel worked his jaw without anything coming out. "Even after...?"

His father waited for him to finish.

"...the... spell I put on you?"

His father looked surprised. "That's the least of our concerns. Parents get used to their children... causing trouble for them. Though not... on that level, still... we're a lot more upset by what you did... to your brothers and sisters. And to other people."

"I did it," Hindel repeated, "for Iom, and for all the hundreds of people who would have suffered and died, and the countless thousands who would have lived in a desolate world without gods, without religion, without any meaningful morals, if I had done nothing."

"Doing nothing wasn't the only alternative. It never is." He looked down at his hands. "What I'm trying to say is, you did... what you believed was best... and that's why we forgive you. But you have to promise not to do that to your brothers and sisters again."

"I may not have much choice. Dusty told me he intends to keep on fighting me."

"That's not what I meant. We can't ask you not to defend yourself. But you kidnapped your brothers and sisters from their homes, without provocation. Do you understand?"

"They would have fought to stop me." He bit his lip. "But yes, I understand what you mean. I won't do it again."

"Because... Iom may ask you to, you know."

Hindel shook his head. "No. He says there won't be any need for it. If we ever need to unite the nations again, they'll fight alongside us willingly now that they've been shown what Iom can do through his chosen one, so we'll all be on the same side. As for bringing Iom back to this world, that won't even be possible until all of us are old." That was something he dearly hoped to see before he died, but he did not say so. He knew his father feared what Iom would do if revived, and Hindel didn't want to upset him.

His father smiled and laid a hand on his arm. "I love you, son."

Hindel looked down, both ashamed and overjoyed that his parents forgave him. "I love you too, Dad."

* * *

Elsewhere in the shrine, Nancie entered one of the guest rooms to find Valeria packing her things.

"So," she said softly. "You are leaving."

"I'm afraid so." Valeria looked over her shoulder. "Hindel told you?"

"Yes." She steeled herself, and said more loudly, "I can't understand how you can turn your back on Iom now - right after you found him."

Valeria paused to brush her light red hair out of her face. "I never found Iom, not in the way you and Hindel have. What I found is that at least one god exists. But though Iom is a god, he is not _my_ god."

"...It's true that we Iomites are Iom's chosen people." She smiled, warm and hopeful. "But our god welcomes all who are willing to serve him."

"But that's exactly my point; I'm _not_ willing to serve him. For a little while, I thought I might be, but the human sacrifice set for today brought it quite home that I am not. Serving Iom means taking people's lives, which is exactly the thing I most rue about my time serving Britta."

"Britta was murdering people," Nancie corrected. "People give their lives to Iom willingly, and become part of him because of that."

"I know that. I'm not saying you and Britta are morally equivalent, or even close to it. But the principle is the same. I thought, subconsciously, that it might be enough that the people here sacrifice themselves willingly, and that I would never have to do the killing myself, but it's not. I can't condemn what your religion is doing, but I can't support it, either. And if the god of your religion is real, it stands to reason that some of the other religions are based on a real god, too. I just have to find one that I'm comfortable with worshiping."

With that, Valeria shouldered her pack. "Thank you," she said. "For everything. Even if I've decided not to be a servant of Iom, for that little time after I found my faith, I needed to be one. Because of what you all have done, Hindel especially, but all of you, I feel... healed."

It was a good enough goodbye, and certainly a firm enough one, but Nancie could not live with herself if she didn't make one last attempt. "What if you're wrong, about there being more than one god?" she said. "What if Iom is all there is?"

"That's a chance I'm willing to take. I don't think any less of you for the fact that you are not."

Valeria bent slightly to kiss her on the brow, and then walked out and was gone.

Nancie just stood there a while, in silence. _Valeria seemed firmly resolved, so perhaps there wasn't much she could do... and after all, she is just one of hundreds of people who had been converted to the faith of late. ...No, that's just an excuse. However many people there are in the world, every single one is monumentally important._

She felt Hindel's hand upon her shoulder.

"She may come back," he said. "One day. We can only wait, and hope."

Nancie nodded, glad that he was there.

* * *

It was Theo who answered the door, so Taela had to make a strong effort to keep from averting her eyes in disgust. Caleb once told her that his dad's face was not as ugly as it used to be, but she found that hard to imagine.

"Taela! Hi," Theo said. "You're here to see -"

"Caleb, yup," she interrupted, hoping to hurry this along as much as possible. "If he says he's not in, tell him Rimeon's here, too. Speaking of whom," - she grabbed her beastman friend by the arm - "...you can stop lurking, honestly."

While Rimeon made some protest that she didn't bother listening to, Theo went and got Caleb.

Caleb came to the door, but as she'd expected, he didn't look particularly enthusiastic. They stood there in the doorway, in awkward silence, for a few moments while Theo wandered off to give them their privacy. _He is a considerate guy, I suppose... but I'm never going to get used to that face of his. Too bad there's nothing either of us can do about it._

Maybe it was because she was distracted by that thought, but Caleb for once managed to get the first word in ahead of her. "Okay, so..." He was shuffling his feet, hands in his pockets. "I know I've been a stubborn jerk for the past few weeks, but I've finally gotten around to looking at what happened from your perspective, and even if I still think I wouldn't have done the same thing in your shoes, I can -"

"Okay," Taela cut in. "Okay! I'm sorry I blabbed about Rimeon and Barro when we got captured. I didn't think it would do them any real harm, especially since Jepper said he knew there were more of us anyway, but I can see how it seemed to you that I was betraying them, and I'm sorry."

"...It's okay."

"There," Rimeon said, clapping a hand on Taela's shoulder, "...that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Bite me."

"Barro and I told Caleb right from the start that we didn't hold what happened against you. If you'd just apologized then, he would have had to let you off the hook."

"Oh, so the whole point of apologizing was to force him to forgive me?" Taela retorted, putting her hands on her hips. "Sorry, but I happen to feel that a little thing called 'what's right' is important in situations like these."

"There's something you and I agree on," Caleb grinned, putting his hand on her other shoulder.

"I'm starting to forget there was ever anything we disagreed on," she smiled back.

"I remember!" Rimeon put in, as the three of them walked away from Caleb's home together. "This one time, Caleb thought you shouldn't tell dangerous people about your hidden friends, even under extreme duress, and you thought it wasn't that important. I remember it like it was just last month."

"Yes, but we agreed that when we have such a disagreement, you should stubbornly refuse to talk to the other person for weeks afterwards."

"I think you're missing the big picture here, Taela," Caleb said. "Which is: Did Rimeon actually make a joke just now?"

"I must be wearing off on him. Too bad the same thing can't be said about his grooming."

"Let's find Karis," Rimeon suggested. "She has some good qualities she can rub off on us."

"I wouldn't even mind if you rubbed off on her instead," Caleb said, smiling. "'Cause you two are pretty much the best friends I could ever have hoped to bond with."

"Well, yeah," Taela returned, with a mock cockiness.

* * *

The two of them rested in each other's arms, their passion satisfied but their tenderness and love still quietly burning as they enjoyed the familiar contact of each other's bare skin, the comfort of their shared warmth.

Natasha broke the silence. "That was a nice surprise," she said, giggling like she did when she was a girl.

She did this giggle fairly often after sex, and Deanna could never tell if it was a good sign or a bad sign. The matter of physical pleasure was never in question; he'd had more than enough time to learn how to please his wife. But emotionally, their lovemaking could leave Natasha feeling either giddy with delight or hopelessly embarrassed, either one of which could manifest itself in the giggle.

So he said with some trepidation, "Was it alright? I mean, we didn't discuss it beforehand..."

"I said it was nice, didn't I?"

"What I was getting at... is the last time we did discuss it... we weren't sure about having more children."

"Oh." She voiced the monosyllable carelessly, as if that past discussion was totally irrelevant to the here and now. Emphasizing the point further, she snuggled her head against his shoulder. "I'm not worried about that anymore. Sometimes I wish we could go on having more and more children, for all of eternity, just one fresh new face after another sprung up from and nurtured by our love. And sometimes I just feel weary of the little scamps, and think it's time to let go of that part of my life and accept that we're old now. I don't know which way is right, and I'm ready to just leave it to fate. If we have another baby, I'll happily raise him. If we don't, I won't wish we had. ...How about you?"

He thought for a moment. "I've always been happy to... take whatever joys life came my way, and never expected them to come. So... we're in the same boat, basically."

"As usual."

"But," he said, hesitating to pick at a wound that might still be sore, "...are you still worried about Hindel?"

"Not anymore. I've known it all along, I think, but now I'm sure: Hindel isn't just Iom's. He's ours, too. If he were just Iom's, he would have had all of us sacrificed. He wouldn't have gone through what he did to save the people of Begof. And he would have conquered the world with his power, like Brehen said he would, not made allies and relinquished his conquered lands when he was done. If it was Iom's plan to make our son into his unquestioning slave, then we beat him again."

"I'm... not so sure that was Iom's plan. Even assuming he did have May infect Hindel the way you talked about, he must have known ahead of time exactly what effect that would and wouldn't have on Hindel."

"I guess that's true. Oh, but I don't care. Hindel is more important than Iom, and Hindel's all right. I'd be lying if I said I liked everything about him - I'd be lying if I said I liked everything about any of our children - but he's all right." She paused, and tilted her head to look into his eyes. "That sounds like such an incredibly callow thing for a mother to say about her son. But you understand what I mean, don't you?"

Deanna nodded. After a moment's thought, he added, "It... hasn't really been fair to you. You've given so much of yourself for others... only to get so much trouble from our son... and from me."

"Don't say that. Life's been hard, maybe harder for me than most people, but it's been fuller too, and maybe life can't be full without being hard. When -"

She was cut off by the sound of a shriek. "Mom-meeeeee! Help!"

It was Jacinda. In a dash, Natasha threw on her nightgown and was running down the dark hall. Deanna put on some pants and went after her.

Natasha flung open the door to Amber and Jacinda's room. Amber was there, staring numbly at the bunk bed. Little Jacinda was sitting in the top bunk, clutching fearfully at the covers. Her frightened eyes were fixed upon the foot of the bed...

...and there, proceeding up from the floor near the bed, was a substantial fire.

Natasha went immediately into action. She thrust her hands at the fire and shouted "Freeze!" As the level 3 spell dampened the flames, Deanna was already scooping their little daughter out of the bed and away from the reach of the flames.

Though Natasha's aim had been just about perfect, it took one more spell to completely stifle the flames. Once that was done, she turned sharply to Amber. "_What_ did I tell you about using Blaze inside?" she demanded.

"I was just showing Jacey..." Amber mumbled, then managed, in a louder tone, "I put the wood on a plate before I set it on fire."

"And you thought that was safe? You didn't think that the flames might wander outside that one little space? More importantly, you didn't think that I told you to never, _ever_ use Blaze inside the house for a good reason?!"

Amber looked down. "I'm sorry."

Natasha paused for a moment to glance back and forth between her and Jacinda, who was still clinging to Deanna, held in his gentle embrace. "What were you two doing still awake, anyway? It's late!"

Amber tweaked one of her index fingers. "You and Dad were making a lot of noise," she answered.

A subtle blush rose to Natasha's cheeks. In a house as crowded as theirs, it had of course been necessary to tell the children not to be worried if they heard her and Deanna making noise in their bedroom, but Amber and Jacinda were not yet old enough to be told why. "Well, you could have burned your little sister alive," she remonstrated. "I thought you were mature enough that I could teach you the first level of that spell, but obviously I was wrong." At her mother's words, Amber's head hung still lower. "So you're grounded until further notice. And I don't want you to use Blaze again, indoors _or_ outdoors, or you'll really be in trouble."

Now Amber raised her head. "But Mooooommmmm... I won't do it inside again!"

"You're darn right you won't, and not outside either, until -"

Deanna stopped listening there, as after putting Jacinda down he was focused on cleaning up the mess of ashes Amber's dangerous display had left. Teaching her Blaze had seemed like a good idea at the time. Most people didn't start learning such powerful magic until they turned 15, but Amber had picked up on the early stuff so quickly, making both him and Natasha so proud, that it seemed a shame to hold her back. Obviously, she wasn't ready. But mistakes could not be undone, only dealt with responsibly.

As father went on sweeping, mother and daughter went on arguing, and, roused by the sound, the other children would soon come investigating.

And eventually, the sun would come up on another day.

END


End file.
